


Cross My Heart, Hope to Die

by 37054ljH



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Ableist Language, American Sign Language, Autism, Autism Spectrum, Autistic Reader, Bath Sex, Candle-Making, Candles, Coming of Age, Cooking, Dysfunctional Family, Dysfunctional Parent-Child Relationships, Everyone Has Issues, F/M, Forgiveness, Growing Relationships, I promise, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Torture, Married Couple, Married Life, Married Sex, Protective America (Hetalia), Reader could be considered a tsundere except she's not a violent person by nature, Reader is America's wife, Reader is not fond of the nations, Redemption, Referenced Child Neglect, References of Ableism, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Gestures, Sadistic America, Sex, Smart America (Hetalia), Some nation bashing, Suicidal Thoughts, Tags May Change, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, adventurous sex, bath bombs, body harm, but they will get better, dysfunctional sibling relationships, meltdowns, routines, selective mutism, top/bottom, workplace bullying
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2020-06-29 16:29:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 40
Words: 55,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19834081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/37054ljH/pseuds/37054ljH
Summary: "Never love anybody who treats you like you're ordinary." --Oscar Wilde.Meet America. He is the living personification of the United States of America, and is known by all as an immature, hero-loving idiot who can't be taken seriously, causing almost every nation to love hating him.But what if you were to be told that wasn't the real him?America has been keeping secrets from the entire world, from his true intelligent, serious, and sometimes sadistic personality, to his superior power over the world, and even to his marriage.Yes, his marriage.Now, meet (Y/N). She is the wife of America's living personification, and is known for her cooking, her bath and shower bombs, her candles, and her weird habits. She's not like other women, never has been and never will be, which is one of the reasons that attracted America to her. She also despises the nations for their behavior towards her husband, and wishes for them to leave him in peace.But what happens when the nations find out of America's mortal and unnatural wife in the least expected way possible? Whatever it is, it will end in chaos as the truth about America tears beliefs, relationships, and lives apart.





	1. Author's Note (Please Read) (Updated)

**Once more, I do not own** **_Hetalia_ ** **, America, you, or any other related content. They all belong to their respective owners. I only own the plot.**

**And just so you guys are aware, I'm not writing this to make fun of those who are on the autism spectrum (and I happen to be on the spectrum myself). This is just for entertainment purposes only, and will eventually be meant for mature audiences, with there being eventual sexual content, strong language, suggestive themes, and even some intense violence.**

**I also warn you that there will be some bashing from the other nations, but just because I'm doing that, that doesn't mean I have a problem with those people to begin with. So for those of you who are from any of those countries, just remember that I'm not here to offend you, and if I have done that, I apologize in advance, but don't blame me for not warning you beforehand.**

**Finally, I need to warn you that due to this story eventually going into mature territory, please keep in mind that this story will also explore extremely distressing topics such as abuse (specifically child abuse and neglect), implied torture, dysfunctional familial relationships, workplace bullying, mentions of ableism, references of suicidal thoughts and ideations, and others, which are NOT meant to be laughing matters. Please keep in mind that I do not condone any of these behaviors in real life, but that they only for the plot of this story, so for those of you who are victims of any of the mentioned themes or have problems with the previously mentioned mature content, I highly advise that you either leave or continue with extreme caution. Once again, I am not here to offend anyone, but any negative feedback or attempted arguments will be ignored. I don't have time for those who think they're making themselves better by putting down other people just because they don't like something.**

**But also be warned that if that attempted verbal abuse is continued, you will be reported, no questions asked, so I highly advise you think your actions through before you do something as stupid as that.**

**Either way, just keep this in mind and be respectful, and none of us will have any problems.**

**Anyway, enjoy!**

**~~~37054ljH**


	2. Prologue

America was a man who kept a lot of things to himself, especially in front of the people who were supposed to be older than him.

He snorted at that. And they called him stupid.

There was a major reason why he became a superpower, why he still has that title now. Too bad they seem to be losing more and more of their brain cells every day, including his stupid brother, since they seem to forget that he can outsmart them any day, that he can be cruel and sadistic, and that he can be indifferent.

How pathetic.

Still, those were one of the many secrets that America kept from the nations, and this secret was something he wanted to hide forever.

He is married.

To one of his own citizens to be more precise.

Except his wife was no ordinary woman. He smiled lovingly at the thought of that.

She was a woman with autism, and she loved cooking, making bath bombs they could use, candles, and she even enjoyed space, doing the strangest but endearing of things while there. America had no doubt that she could be a famous woman in the near future, but he wasn't counting on that.

His wife hated being the center of attention, except his of course, but being in front of a crowd was not her bread and butter.

That was also why she agreed to keep hidden from the other nations, whom she also vocalized her great dislike for because of how they treated her husband.

America guessed he should've saw that day coming, the day where the other nations would find out of her existence and his real personality.

But god damn, who knew that it would give him a big migraine for the rest of the day?


	3. Her

America should've guessed that it would happen on a meeting day, and while he wasn't around.

Fuck his life.

Still, he had been hoping to meet his wife at the door so she wouldn't have to meet the nations, but it turns out she came early and went on ahead.

"Shit!" he hissed to himself, rushing as fast as he could to find his wife, (Y/N), before something went horribly wrong.

~~~

(Y/N) Jones uneasily looked at the door before her, hoping beyond all else that her husband was behind that door and she could leave and continue with her bath bombs and not have to deal with the people she so dislikes. Alfred had forgot his lunch again (typical), so (Y/N) decided to bring it to him as long as it didn't disrupt her routine.

Now, here she was, preparing to knock on the door to the meeting room, her handmade lunch for America at hand, and whimpering at the loud noise coming from within. Even from out here, she could tell it was painfully loud. What would it be like to actually be in that room?

Then she did knock, silencing the room.

And it wasn't long before someone answered it. "Bloody hell America, where the hell were you--oh, hello there."

(Y/N) resisted the urge to flinch away, even though the urge was so tempting right now. Almost subconsciously, she began to rock back and forth in an attempt to calm herself, mumbling to herself all the while. Desperately she looked around the room for her husband, but couldn't find him anywhere.

"Madam?" (Y/N) squeaked in fear, almost dropping the pack and immediately backed away, still searching for her husband. What was she supposed to do here? What was she supposed to do?!

"Angleterre, what did you do?" A French voice asked, and (Y/N) burrowed further into the wall and continued to whimper, especially when the obvious England snapped around in pure anger.

"I didn't do anything you twat!" he hissed, causing (Y/N) to cry out once more. So much anger and hatred! She never thought a person could have it in them. Now she couldn't even breathe!

Then the click of a gun was heard, which silenced the two men.

(Y/N) looked up to see the non-smiling face of Alfred, who was clearly ready to go to war with the people before him. Speaking of whom, the men looked shocked and terrified.

"What," Alfred began slowly, sounding ready to commit murder. "Did. You. Do?"

England snapped out of his stupor, and attempted to look angry. "W-What the hell are you doing you bloody--"

But then the end of the gun was placed dangerously close to his head. "I asked you a question Mr. Kirkland," Alfred went on, quickly losing whatever patience he had with the man before him. "What. Did. You. Do? If you don't want a bullet through that thick skull of yours, you will answer me."

England actually appeared stunned and afraid all at once, for his eyes widened and his irises somehow got smaller. Alfred however paid no attention to this, instead making the motion of pulling the trigger.

Then (Y/N) hurried to her husband, presenting him the lunch she made for him. He looked at her, his gaze soft, but she didn't see that.

He then made hand motions, and (Y/N) recognized the question.

_Did they hurt you?_

(Y/N) quickly responded. _No, but they were yelling at each other._

America nodded, before slowly gazing back at England and France, still stunned, and he was aware that the other nations were in the same predicament.

"Looks like you dodged a bullet this time," he commented coldly. "You're lucky, but if I were you I wouldn't test it even further. Continue on then, I need to help my assistant."

 _Assistant?_ (Y/N) thought, before mentally smacking herself in the forehead. _Oh._

"N-Now hold on a second!" England once more attempted to glare furiously at his former charge. "Y-You can't just run off without explaining yourself you bloody wanker!"

"Oh I can't, can I?" America asked, a mocking eyebrow raised. "As far as I'm concerned Mr. Kirkland, neither you nor the other nations were too pleased when I got into your business, so what makes you think you can get into mine?"

Silence was his response.

"I didn't think so. Now, if you will excuse me." America motioned for (Y/N) to follow him out of the building, which said woman was too eager to do. He allowed her to go ahead of him before he stopped. "Oh, and one more thing"--He turned to glare at England and France--"if you so much as attempt to follow or spy on me, I will see it as an act of war, no questions asked, so if I were you I'd use my brain and choose wisely."

He then followed (Y/N) out the door.

~~~

As soon as they got comfortable in the car, America turned to his wife. "Why didn't you wait for me?" he asked, concerned. "I did say I was going to meet you at the entrance."

(Y/N) bit her lip before signing, _I know, but I didn't see you when I got there, so I thought I'd just leave it somewhere where only you could find it._

"In the meeting room?" America asked incredulously. 

(Y/N) blushed in shame. Seeing this, America sighed before running his fingers through her hair, making her cry out in dismay. She pouted up at him, attempting to look angry, but her attempts just made him start laughing.

(Y/N) squeaked in displeasure and began to pound angrily on her husband's arm until he stopped and wiped his teary eyes.

"Okay, okay, I'm done. Really, I am." America patted (Y/N)'s hand. "I'm sorry for laughing at you, but you were just so cute that I couldn't resist."

(Y/N) blushed again, this time in embarrassment, before she turned on the car and proceeded to drive them both home.

"Really darling, I'm sorry," America continued to say, but his wife continued to keep her attention on the road, her cheeks still as red as tomatoes.

So America just kept on smiling during the entirety of the ride. His wife was always so easy to fluster.

But then again, that was one of the many things he loved about her.

Now the problem was this: What the hell were the other idiot nations going to do now?


	4. Threats

Okay, why the hell did he not think of bringing a stun-gun to the meeting with him?

The next day came without any other incident, but America knew that his stupid coworkers were going to question him about his behavior yesterday, and that was something he was not looking forward to. He contemplated remaining silent and even ignoring them, but that would only cause them to become more suspicious. He had already given too much of himself away yesterday when protecting (Y/N).

But for fuck's sake that was his wife!

Guess he'll have to go for his foolish "hero and immature" approach again. God that was so exhausting, but at least it kept the others off his back.

Oh, and speaking of whom...

"America." Of course it had to be England who approached him first. "We need to talk."

"About what dude?" America asked, feigning confusion.

"Don't give me that you bloody wanker," England snapped. God was being angry all he knew how to do? "We need to talk about your behavior from yesterday."

America frowned. "And I'm afraid that there's nothing to talk about." He then proceeded to walk off.

But the hand on his wrist stopped him. "You're not going anywhere, not until you answer my question America!"

Now, after so many centuries of trying to stay calm around the older nation, America found himself glaring at said man over his shoulder, showing the man who had seen war, the deaths of his friends, and betrayal. Understandably, England immediately flinched away, stunned.

"And what part of "my business is none of your concern", do you not get, Mr. Kirkland?" America asked coldly. "I don't know if you're just downright stupid or you're getting older, but frankly I'm really getting tired of having to repeat myself to you and the other nations. Is it wrong for someone to want to protect their own citizens, especially if they happen to be their assistant?"

"W-Well, no, but--"

"Then we have nothing else to talk about. Now, hurry up, I don't have all day." America walked off, not caring if England followed him or not, and as long as he kept his mouth shut, then he didn't care on what he did.

~~~

"YOUR HERO HAS ARRIVED!" America announced once he entered the meeting room, expecting groans of disappointment and even eye rolls, but what he received was complete silence. Feigning confusion, he looked up to find that everyone was staring at him with fear, confusion, and...was that even concern he saw?

He scoffed at that. Like hell.

"What's up guys?" America asked, soon forcing himself to jump in fear. "Oh no, you haven't seen a ghost have you?!"

"America." Looking to the side, America inwardly groaned at the sight of his so-called "brother". "We need to talk."

"About what?"

He didn't flinch when Canada slammed his fist on the table, leaving behind a crack. "You know exactly what I'm talking about America, don't you fucking dare give me that!" the latter hissed, pure malice in his voice. America wouldn't be surprised if Canada actually was made of nothing but poison.

"Give you this?" America repeated, and now a cruel expression came to his eyes. "Whatever do you mean my foolish brother?"

Unprepared for America's sudden change in demeanor, Canada stepped back, stunned. But the former's childlike expression came back, as if by light switch.

"Seriously dude, what's up?" he asked.

Canada, still stunned, said nothing.

Taking that as a no, America turned to the rest of the nations, smiling big. "Come on, let's get this meeting started now!" he chirped forcibly. "We don't have all day you know!"

Surprisingly, that was exactly what the other nations decided to do, and soon his behavior was forgotten as America had predicted, and they then began to argue with one another over the smallest of things like the fools they were.

And while no one was paying attention, America sadistically grinned at them. Fools, that's what they all were. Fools that were so easy to take advantage of. Hell, even (Y/N) was able to read underneath the underneath!

America chuckled to himself. What could his lovely little darling be doing at home now? Was she watching the cake she makes every Wednesday bake in the oven? Was she getting ready for the shower? Or was she patiently waiting for him to return home, dressed in her usual ballgown, the one that she always wore every Wednesday night?

Well, he'll have to wait and see, won't he?


	5. Strange

She watched the delicacy as it sat in the oven intently, watching as it slowly began to rise from batter to its actual cake part. She always did this whenever she baked, for it was always amazing to watch the food take its final form as it baked, and she was able to watch as one part showed signs while others soon followed.

Of course, (Y/N) never understood why people found this habit of hers strange. To them, they said she was acting creepy, staring at something that wasn't changing for minutes on end. Of course, Alfred had no problem with that, but he did enjoy teasing her.

(Y/N) always pouted at that. She absolutely _hated_ it when her husband teased her, mostly because she always thought he was being serious!

The oven dinged, signifying that it was finished baking the cake. Smiling, (Y/N) pulled it out of the oven and placed it on the stove, waiting patiently for it to cool as she began to work on the frosting. Her frosting was always homemade, made from egg yolk with a few cups of sugar, but for this cake she added some light green food coloring.

It was the first day of Spring after all.

Once the cake was cool enough, (Y/N) added the frosting around it, smoothing it over more than once. Once the frosting was set in place, she poured a little chocolate over the sides, watching happily as they dripped down the sides. Finally, as the final touch, she added sprinkled some edible pearls across from the other on the sides, which were accompanied by small candy leaves.

(Y/N) clapped her hands at her work, and best of all, she was done on time! Now it was time for her usual shower.

And hopefully Alfred won't come in on her again. She absolutely hated it whenever he ruined her time in there, and she once threw a shampoo bottle at him when he accidentally came in. Of course she apologized afterwards, but at least he learned to never do that again.

Still, she wondered what it would be like to actually lay down with him on the shower floor.

(Y/N) blushed. _No! Bad (Y/N)! He would never do that!_

She continued to blush even when she reached their large and extravagant bathroom.

~~~

"La la la la la!" (Y/N) was chirping as she spun around in the shower, loving the way the shower water felt like warm rain against her bare skin. She always loved this spacious shower, for it gave her enough room to spin, stretch, and even lay down.

She added shampoo to her hair, eventually rinsing it out and replacing it with conditioner, but after also getting that out of her hair, she continued to spin around, before she lay down and allowed the shower water to rain down on her.

It was always a nice feeling when the shower acted like warm rain to (Y/N). But she wouldn't stay down for long.

She had to finish up before Alfred came home.

So (Y/N) washed the rest of her body and left the shower, grabbing the dress she always wore every Wednesday night and slipped it on easily. It was a beautiful cotton dress that Alfred got for her for her birthday, and it was very simple in design and texture. It was light orange in color, reached the floor, and was short-sleeved. Perfect for moving around in.

So, after brushing out her wet hair, (Y/N) left the bathroom and headed outside on the large patio, lit the candles she made, and patiently waited for her husband to get home.


	6. Night Dance

It was always a relief to let down his facade after a meeting, but now America had a major migraine.

God what he wouldn't give to get away from it all forever. It was always pointless to even go to these things to begin with.

But at least it was the weekend, meaning he can spend more time with his lovely (Y/N).

As he drove up the driveway, he had to restrain himself from throwing open the car door and rush up the doorsteps to then throw open the door. Instead, he slowly turned off the car, got out, and walked towards the door, which he unlocked and walked inside the house.

So far the house itself was empty, but that was to be expected. (Y/N) was never found in the house on days like these, but America knew exactly where she was hiding, especially if the lit candles outside were anything to go by.

Once again, America had to restrain himself from going outside on the patio, even though (Y/N) didn't really care what he wore.

"Ah, fuck it," America grumbled to himself, moving to head outside. Once he opened the door, he found the entire patio covered with burning red candles, which sent a cranberry scent around the entire area. It wasn't strong, but it was strong enough for America to mistake the candles for actual cranberries.

He quietly chuckled to himself. That was his (Y/N) alright.

He continued to walk across the patio until he came across a circular section of it, where in the middle, knelt a very familiar woman. She was dressed in her usual orange gown for tonight, and upon hearing his approach, looked up.

Damn it, they had done this so many times in the past, but even still America couldn't help but feel eager for what was to come next.

Tilting her head to the side, (Y/N) held out her hands, just as her husband turned on the violin music to a soft level. He then approached his wife, gingerly taking her hands in his and brought her to her feet, wrapped one arm around her waist, and kept a gentle but firm grip on one of her hands.

(Y/N) didn't flinch away like she would with so many other people. It made America feel special in some way, that his wife, who so hated being touched in any way, was allowing him to do exactly that. He guessed that was because she trusted him, or she was used to his hugs, whichever came first.

Not that he was complaining mind you.

Then, as the violin and piano music started to play, America guided (Y/N) throughout the patio, dancing with her the way he had seen many English nobility and royalty do with one another when he was still England's colony. Now, normally the thought of that would sent a wave of displeasure through America, but now, he didn't care.

This dance actually helped calm (Y/N) when she was either having a particularly bad day or she had a hard time sleeping. So, America guessed this was the only reason he had to thank England for, and nothing else.

As the notes of the violin got higher, and the piano went deeper in tone, America gently spun (Y/N) around, and even dipped her towards the ground, until they went back to doing the ordinary waltz moves that she loved.

Eventually as the music got to its climax, (Y/N) leaned her head against America's chest, clearly sleepy and in bliss. America couldn't resist smiling down at her, even when the music ended.

And even after all the times they did this together, the value of it still hung heavy over America.

When the music finally ended, (Y/N) was very sleepy, and allowed her husband to guide her towards their shared bedroom. They had a very large king-sized bed, mostly because (Y/N) hated being near someone when she was trying to get to sleep, and she will only cuddle against America if she was too tired to care or it was really early in the morning.

And once his lovely darling was fast asleep, America gave her a kiss on the forehead. "Good night Honey," he whispered. "I'll be joining you shortly."

But as he walked out of the room, America immediately frowned in hostility and walked back out to the patio, where he looked up in the ceiling's corner.

"Do you remember what I told you Mr. Kirkland?" he asked with an angry eyebrow raised. "I told you if you even attempted to spy on me, I will see it as an act of war, and an act of war this is." He then grabbed the camera and ripped it from where it was placed, glaring right into the lens. "And you also proved to me how stupid you really are!"

Then he smashed it to pieces.

Those fools just dug their own graves, and America was going to be the one who shoved them into them and buried them alive. 


	7. The Real America

America knew the meeting room was going to be in complete and utter chaos when he got there, but it would be for a different reason altogether today.

Those goddamn _fools_!

How he was going to enjoy destroying them from the inside out.

America got to the meeting location pretty quickly, and as soon as he was near the meeting room, he slammed the door open, gun loaded and ready to fire, which caused the loud room to go deathly silent.

Clearly the nations were spooked by the expression on America's face. Speaking of which, America's eyes were wide and filled with pure anger, his body posture screaming for battle, and his walk slow and angry, making him appear even more menacing.

America looked at every nation, his eyes moving over them one by one. No one dared speak, and they seemed to finally use their brains for once, as they clearly knew that the gun America was holding was loaded.

Finally America approached England, his eyes never blinking, and took out the destroyed camera.

"You remember what I told you, right, Mr. Kirkland?" America asked slowly, barely suppressed anger in his voice. "Do you remember every word I told you?"

England shivered, but he answered. "That if we attempted to spy on you in any way, you would see it as an act of war."

"That's right, and what did you do?" America's finger flipped off the safety switch on his gun.

"We put a camera in your house and watched you."

"Right again, and an act of war that was. So..." Within the speed of light, America whipped the butt of the gun across England's face, where the sickening crack was heard as his jaw snapped. England collapsed to the ground, stunned and in excruciating pain, but due to the awkward position of his jaw, he couldn't cry out properly.

America just grinned at this, feeling no ounce of sympathy for his former caretaker turned enemy.

"Now then," he turned back to the other nations, whose eyes were impossibly wide with horror, "were the rest of you involved in this? Oh wait, you don't have to answer that, you were, because you can never respect a person's privacy, can you? The same goes for you, you fucked up excuse of a brother."

Canada jumped. "W-Wha--"

"Ah, ah, ah!" America aimed the gun at Canada's face. "Don't try to pull the victim card with me, stupid boy. I want to hear only the truth, and that's it. If you can't provide me with something as simple as that, I have better ways of getting it out of you, and trust me, that's the last thing you want me to do."

"A-And what makes you think you can do anything to me?" Canada then asked, attempting to appear brave.

America raised an amused eyebrow. "What can I do to you?" he repeated, a sadistic grin spreading across his face. "Oh, dear Mr. Williams, have you forgotten who you're dealing with? Have you forgotten what I did after you decided to be an idiot and choose the side of a man who cared very little about you?"

Canada must've realized he flinched, because he now watched with wide eyes as America grinned even bigger. "You haven't, have you?" he questioned. "That's good, so I'm going to guess that you haven't forgotten what I told you before, right?"

Silence answered him, but it told America everything.

"That's right," he quickly said, "and unfortunately for the rest of you, you seem to have completely forgotten who you're messing with. Have you forgotten what I did to your two precious cities after you attacked my people, Japan?"

Japan winced, fear apparent on his face.

"Germany, did you forget how close I was to leaving your precious brother to rot at the hands of Russia?"

Germany's skin turned a deathly white.

"And Russia? I sincerely hope you remember how weak you are compared to me, especially if the Cold War was anything to go by?"

Russia frowned, and his usual dark aura was back.

"I didn't think so. So, how about you all give me a good reason why I shouldn't just nuke all of you into oblivion? You did, after all, commit an act of war against me, and that's something I cannot take lightly."

"A-An act of war?" _Of course_ it had to be China who said something stupid. "How can something such as that be an act of war aru?!"

America raised a mocking eyebrow at the stupid man. "Don't tell me you're so old that you're losing memory?"

China gritted his teeth.

"Oh well, since you seem to have forgotten for the seventy-second time, I'll tell you: I'm not only doing this because you are trying to spy on my personal life, but if I didn't know any better, I would say that you are trying to find out my worst weaknesses so you could use them against me in the near future. Isn't that right, Mr. Wang?"

China didn't answer.

"And now, thanks to that, you know who that woman is to me, don't you? And don't look at me like that, you stupid fools, I'm not as stupid as you think I am. Now, you have about five seconds to answer me before I blast a hole through one of your chests."

He then proceeded to aim the gun at everyone in the room, counting down, "Five."

"America--"

"Four."

"America, stop this--"

"Three."

"This isn't funny--"

"Two."

"Oh god no..."

"One!"

He then fired, which ended up hitting France square in the chest. The man collapsed to the ground, clutching his sternum in an attempt to stop the blood and pain, and the other nations cried out in fear, while others attempted to help.

Canada snapped his head towards America, his eyes filled with tears and anger. "Why?! Why did you do that?!"

America just chuckled sadistically. "Just taught him and the stupid Brit a lesson to never frighten my wife again. Oh, and if I were you I'd call a doctor if you want to save them. I didn't shoot your precious Papa in the heart, but I was close. So, if you don't want him to die of blood loss, you will call a doctor, and I'm not to keen on dealing with another war anytime soon.

"So if you don't want this happening again, you will leave my life be and not attempt on doing something as stupid as that again. But knowing you, you will never keep that vow, and the day you all do will be when pigs fly. Good day to you."

America then left the meeting room, the sadistic grin still on his face as he made his way to the car. That felt amazing, putting those stupid fools in their places, and he knew this was only the beginning of their graves. He just handed them the shovels and had them dig even deeper, and now he just had to find the right moment to push them in and have them bury themselves alive.

But first things first, he wants to go home to his lovely wife.


	8. Such a Tease

If (Y/N) was surprised by her husband's sudden return home, she didn't show it right away. Clearly she thought he came for his forgotten lunch, until she saw the way he was gripping his gun.

"Huh?" she asked, staring at America with confusion. America on the other hand forced himself to calm down.

"(Y/N)," he began, "I know it's a little early, but can I have one of your strongest bath bombs right now?"

"Eh?!" (Y/N) was now looking at America with a dismayed shock. He held up a hand.

"Please, darling? I really need to relax right now."

Understanding then passed through (Y/N)'s eyes, before a little bit of anger flashed here and there. She then rushed to find one of her stronger bath bombs, sooner coming back with a giant peppermint scented bath bomb. She then rushed towards the bathroom, where America eventually heard the bath water rushing.

He walked that way, stopping in the doorway to watch his wife. She was preparing to place the bath bomb into the now full bathtub, a camera at hand. America found himself smiling, feeling himself calm down all the more.

Steam in the air, (Y/N) turned on the camera and wrapped it around her head, turned off the running water, and gingerly placed the giant bath bomb into the water. From there, the orb erupted into a light green color within the water, turning it the same exact color. (Y/N) watched it intently, clearly searching for anything she didn't like about the bath bomb, but when she found none, looked towards America, preparing to take off her clothes.

America placed his hands in front of him. "You don't have to join me darling," he urged. "Really, you don't."

(Y/N) gave him a look that asked, "Are you stupid?" before she began to strip herself. Watching her, America easily spotted the pink in her cheeks, but other than that, she was comfortable with getting naked in front of him.

Like, come on, they were a married couple, and they had done this so many times he lost count!

Finally the bath bomb finished fizzing inside the bath water, turning the water itself into a very light peppermint green, and it even unleashed a strong scent of peppermint. America's eyes watered a little, but (Y/N) didn't appear effected by it as she then lowered herself into the large bathtub, watching America intently.

He smiled and, closing the door behind him, began to strip himself as well. It wasn't long before he was completely exposed in front of his wife, joining her in the bath.

Oh god, the bath water never felt so good, and he had to credit his dear (Y/N) again. She appeared to be one of the only people in the entire world who could make these kinds of bath bombs. It really wasn't a wonder why so many people came from all over to buy her products and food.

Oh, as America looked towards her, he realized (Y/N) was staring at him intently. He sighed.

"It was the nations again," he admitted. "They decided to be complete idiots and spy on us, even when I gave them a clear warning not to."

(Y/N) hissed, her voice laced with poison. Had this been anyone else, America would've flinched.

"And now I'm worried that even when I gave them a piece of my mind, they're going to continue to be nosy." America scoffed. "And they called me the nosy one. Oh, and apparently they know who you are to me."

The hiss was even more intense now, and even now (Y/N) was glaring into the water with a look of pure hate.

Seeing this, America reached over and took his wife's hand. "Calm down Hun, this is our peaceful time, not our stress time. Come here." He then wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gently drew her to him. (Y/N) didn't fight him, though she did smack him on the shoulder when he brought her a little too close for comfort.

Yeah, these were the times when (Y/N) didn't really want physical contact.

But then she signed to him. _What are you going to do about them next?_

America shrugged. "It could happen in many ways, but most likely they're not going to get the message and will continue to try finding out more about us. But when that happens, that will be when I will officially declare war."

(Y/N) frowned, but didn't voice her complaints.

"But that's only as a last resort," America was quick to say. "I don't want to start another war anytime soon either, but at the same time I can't have them thinking they can do whatever they want when the world's superpower is involved."

(Y/N) nodded, before an idea came to mind and she ducked below the green water.

America watched her, a little confused, until she splashed the water in his face. He spluttered, before grinning.

"Oh, it's on!" he announced, ducking into the water after his wife, who now broke through to get some air. She squeaked when her husband pulled her back under the water, where he proceeded to run his fingers over her sensitive skin.

Breaking the surface again, (Y/N) burst out laughing, trying to play patty cake with America in order to get him away from her, but America easily evaded her escape attempts. He then grabbed a cup, filled it up, and poured it over his wife's head.

She rubbed at her eyes, but by now America had wrapped his arms from behind her and brought her to his chest. He nuzzled her wet hair, ignoring her protests.

Eventually, she signed, _That's not fair!_

"You started it, darling. It's only natural that I retaliate," America countered with a teasing smile. "Not only that, but I have to punish a tease like you."

Realization dawned on (Y/N)'s face, and her face now resembled Spain's prized tomatoes. Clearly she was berating herself for turning her husband on, but at the same time she looked eager.

Oh, America will never get tired of that look.

He ran his fingers over the sensitive parts of her body, which earned a shudder from (Y/N). Her nails dug into his thick skin, but America barely noticed as his fingers now took to exploring her breasts. He gently grasped the mounts and squeezed, earning a gasp from (Y/N), and she started to breathe even harder when those fingers began to lightly trace her nipples.

America smirked at this.

But when he moved to place his mouth on her neck, the phone rang.

America snapped his head towards it, his glare so intense the poor thing would've caught fire if it could. (Y/N) was no better, for she was angrily glaring at the phone, just a brink away from grabbing it and throwing it against the wall.

But America kind of beat her to it. Checking the caller I.D., he groaned and pressed the "talk" button.

"Hello? Alfred F. Jones here."

" _Good afternoon America,_ " a deep male voice responded on the other line.

"Oh, hello Mr. President, how are you?" America found himself calming down a little more, though the irritation at being interrupted was still there.

" _Oh, same old, same old,_ " the man responded. " _I could've been better. I hope I'm not interrupting something?_ "

God, was the man able to read his mind? "Not really," he lied smoothly. "Is something wrong?"

" _Somewhat,_ " America's boss replied grimly. " _I just received some letters from some of the other world leaders, and apparently they want their country personifications to stay over with you and your wife for a while._ "

America wasn't aware he was gripping the phone tightly until he heard it creak in protest. "Did they say as to why?"

" _Apparently they realized how horrible their country representatives were to you, and wanted to get rid of those tensions. Of course, I didn't really agree right away, and I wanted to get your opinion first before I give them my answer. You did tell me yourself that your wife isn't too fond of them._ "

America suddenly appreciated how thoughtful his boss was.

"That's right," he admitted. "And while I would say no, I'm afraid that would only make me look even more suspicious, right?"

" _That's correct._ "

"Then we have no choice. So, yes, I'm afraid they're going to have to stay with me and my wife."

(Y/N) was looking at America with wide eyes, and America suddenly wanted to kill the nations for real this time.

" _Alright. I'll sent your answer to them, and please tell Mrs. Jones that I'm sorry for this._ "

"I will. Anything else?"

" _That's it._ "

"Alright, well, thanks for letting me know Boss. We'll get ready." America then hung up the phone and looked at his wife, who now looked more displeased than before.

"I don't like this either darling, but the last thing we want is to make an enemy out of the world. Don't worry though"--he brought (Y/N) back to his chest--"if they do anything, they're dead men walking. You have my word on that."

(Y/N) nodded, though she still looked uncertain.

Then America smirked again. "Now, where were we before we were interrupted?"

(Y/N) squeaked, her cheeks once more red and her face scared but eager. And this time, America was determined that they would not be interrupted.


	9. Arrival

A full week had passed now, and there was never a day that America dreaded more. He was waiting at the airport for the nations to arrive, and he suddenly wished that their planes would malfunction and crash or that the nations would not come at all. His poor (Y/N) wasn't faring too better either, and it actually got so bad last night that she nearly had a meltdown.

Finally the planes landed, and it was a few minutes before their passengers began to file out. America took out a book that he had been hoping to finish a little bit ago and began to read, not bothering to look for the nations.

If they wanted to find him, they were going to have to look for him.

"America, you bloody wanker!"

Well, that didn't take very long.

America looked up, finding England glaring at him as he dragged his luggage towards him, Canada and France not too far behind him. He smirked inwardly when he saw the bruise around his former caretaker's jaw, and how muffled his voice sounded as a result. As for Canada and France, the latter was in a wheelchair, a large bandage around his midsection, and Canada was looking at anything but America.

Had they not been in a public place, America would've ended up dying of laughter right there and then.

"Mr. Kirkland, Mr. Williams, Mr. Bonnefoy," America greeted with an indifferent wave of his hand. "I hope your flight went well?"

Flashes of hurt went through the three men's eyes, but it was immediately gone for England as he attempted to look angry again. "J-Just fine, thank you!"

"Right." America continued to read as he patiently waited for the other nations to arrive. England, France, and Canada ended up either moving or sitting next to him, somehow disheartened and perhaps shocked by the fact that America of all people was _reading_ , and the book was _not_ a comic book.

Not that America cared, mind you.

Eventually, many pairs of footsteps started to head their way, and America glanced up to find the other nations, all of whom were deathly silent for once in their lives as they stared at America with uncomfortable expressions.

He smirked a little.

Closing the book, America stood up, motioning for the nations to follow him. He didn't bother looking back, and by the footsteps that were hurrying after him, he knew they were right behind him.

It wasn't long before he led them to their limo, and he got in the driver's seat, allowing Germany to share the passenger side. Once the others were in and buckled in, America started the car.

They were away from the airport when he spoke.

"Now, since you all are in my home, there are some rules that I expect you to follow, and that means every single one of you." He stole a peak at the others in the rear-view mirror. "One: do not do anything without my or my wife's permission. If I catch one or all of you doing exactly that, I will take you up into the mountains and push you off the nearest cliff. That is if my wife doesn't find the hottest skillet she can find and smack you in the face with it."

Wow, who knew that Germany would be terrified of the last one?

"Two: be respectful to my wife. She's not exactly fond of you because of how you all treat me, and is not exactly pleased that you're going to be in our home with us, so please be understanding and patient with her. That goes for you China, England, Canada, Germany, Romano, Prussia."

Said men flinched.

"Three: my wife and I expect each and every one of you to clean up after yourselves. We are not your maids nor your parents, and while you're grown men, that doesn't mean I'm not worried, especially when a few of you are concerned."

The nations shifted uncomfortably in their seats.

"Four: please refrain from acting like you would in a meeting. That will cause my wife to feel threatened and cause her to attack one of you, and I have no plans on restraining her if that happens, because I will want you to learn your lesson before you think of doing something like that again."

It was dead silent in the limo.

"And finally: do not touch anything without my wife's permission. If you do that, that will cause her to blow up on you and probably sent you to the hospital. Also, do not interrupt the things my wife and I will do together, for that will not only piss her off, but also will piss me off, and I will join her in making you unrecognizable after we're done. So, are we clear? Do I have to repeat everything I just said to you?"

No one responded.

"I thought not."

The rest of the ride was silent, except for one thing. "Ve, America, what's your wife like?"

America didn't keep the smile from his face. "A wonderful woman," he began. "I really can't imagine not being married to her. She's my life."

Italy was silent after that with thought.

~~~

Finally they stopped in front of the house, where America spotted (Y/N) peaking out the window, clearly unhappy and uncertain.

America sighed to himself; hopefully his wife won't have a skillet at hand.

He looked back towards the nations again. "I'm going to be going in first, and if I were you I'd go in one at a time so you don't overwhelm my wife and head straight for you assigned rooms. We don't have very many bedrooms though, so you guys are either going to have to share or sleep in the living room, and I sincerely hope you won't have to do the latter."

"Ve~ Why?" Italy asked, confused.

"Because my wife is an early riser, and let's just say she hates being extra quiet when she goes to the kitchen."

That somehow silenced Italy.

America then opened the door and got out, walked up the front steps, unlocked the door, and headed into the house. (Y/N) was not too far away, and she was looking at America with very fearful eyes as she glanced outside once in a while.

America smiled gently at her. "Don't worry darling," he soothed, walking towards her and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "I won't let anything happen to you. You know that, right?"

(Y/N) nodded slowly, though she still looked uncertain.

That was to be expected.

Eventually the first person that came in was, of course, Canada, and he avoided looking at America and (Y/N) as he made his way to his assigned bedroom. France and England did the same as they followed Canada, as well as the rest of their entourage.

America sighed once they were all in and gone. "Well, at least they aren't making a scene."

(Y/N) nodded.


	10. A Tense Dinner

As the other nations had arrived during the afternoon, America knew that he and (Y/N) were going to have to get started on dinner at this moment.

Now, contrary to what the other nations thought, America actually could cook, and he was told that he could give Gordon Ramsay a run for his money with his cooking. Though, while his lovely (Y/N) loved his food, she mostly preferred doing the cooking herself, and now that they had guests over, America was going to have to help her.

(Y/N) didn't complain as she set about getting the appropriate pots, pans, bowls, forks, spoons, and ingredients out for some of the bread and dessert dishes she would be making.

America, after washing his hands and making sure the tabletop, the stove, and basically everything around them was free of any potential bacteria, headed towards the fridge, where he grabbed several rib-eye steaks, the salt and pepper shakers, the garlic, canola oil, butter, thyme, rosemary, and a pan before heading to the cutting board.

From there, he worked on the rib-eyes, covering and rubbing them with some salt and pepper on all sides before he placed them in the oven and set it for 35 minutes. Meanwhile, (Y/N) was in the process of heating up a pan so she could heat up her homemade dumplings.

So, while waiting for the steaks to finish, America moved to set the dinner table, and America was thanking himself for buying a table this big. He moved the candles out of the way and placed the various plates, forks, spoons, knives, and napkins before various seats.

Eventually the oven dinged, and America hurried back to the kitchen.

(Y/N) had already prepared a pan for him, and the oil in it was now steaming. Smiling, America gave his wife a thank you kiss before he took the spices and the meat and headed over to the stove.

He flipped the steaks over once before he put in the butter, the garlic, rosemary, and thyme and moved the pan over a couple of times so they could mix with the rib-eyes. He poked at the steaks a couple of times until he knew they were medium-rare and took them off the stove so they could cool. (Y/N) was now in the process of cooking the dumplings, covering them with sesame oil beforehand.

China and Japan were really going to lose their shits once dinner begins.

Once the steaks were cool, America prepared several separate dishes and cut them up. He then placed the remains of the rosemary, garlic, and thyme on them too for extra spice should the nations ever need them.

Now to get started on another dish while (Y/N) was getting done with the dumplings.

~~~

Hours later, dinner and dessert were finally done, and (Y/N) was yawning, not used to cooking this much before, but not complaining. America also stretched and yawned, now really dreading dinner. Shaking his head, he took the still really warm plates and headed to the dining room, where he placed the rib-eye steaks with garlic butter, sui mai dumplings with sesame seeds, cheesy chicken with broccoli pasta, and oven-roasted chicken and veggies.

America was pretty sure the smell alone is what made the nations come out of their rooms. Other than the hustle and bustle of the kitchen, the house had been unnaturally quiet, for not once had America or (Y/N) heard the nations start up their usual childish bickering or make any other noise in general.

Was his revealing his true self that surprising?

Of course, America didn't really care at this point. He never had and never would.

"Good evening," he greeted once the nations stopped in the dining room's doorway. "And there's no need for you to stand there. Go on and take a seat. This food isn't going to eat itself, you know."

Although they did as they were told, the nations were eyeing the food like it was something out of fucking sci-fi movie. America however paid no attention to this as he let (Y/N) to a seat at the circular table, now thankful that he even thought of buying a circular table. (Y/N) didn't fight him, and she was now making it her mission to look at anything but the nations.

And fortunately none of the children thought of bringing it up.

Once they were seated, America grabbed two of the many rib-eye steaks and handed one to his wife, who gave him a small hint of a smile before she placed her napkin in her lap and proceeded to take a slightly huge bite of one of the pieces.

Once more, no one questioned this.

And eventually, the dining room was filled with the sounds its occupants grabbing one of the many plates and of plates, spoons, chopsticks, and knives hitting the plates as they ate.

(Y/N) winced at the sounds they were making, ranging from moans to smacking, the latter which happens to be one of the many sounds that she hates. America noticed her shiver in disgust, and handed her earplugs. Seeing them, (Y/N) gave her husband a thankful smile before putting them in.

But then, someone finally decided to say something.

"How rude!" bellowed China, glaring at America and his wife with disgust. "Is this how your wife treats her guests! Disgusting westerners!"

(Y/N) heard that thanks to her sensitive hearing, and her eyes darkened considerably. Her hand itched towards her cutting knife near her, but America beat her to it. Grabbing his, he threw it at China, which embedded itself in the chair rest behind China, which barely missed his face. Stunned, China looked at America with wide eyes, all while America glared at the older nation darkly.

"So you are downright stupid," he hissed, slowly standing up and now clutching a gun, "for you seem to have forgotten my rules. Didn't I tell you to respect my wife and refrain from acting like you would in a meeting?"

China didn't answer.

"I'm waiting for an answer, China," America warned, clicking his gun. "Unless you really want your head to be blown off, but I'd rather not have to create a big mess to clean up."

China still didn't answer.

Now America was beside China, grabbing his bangs and lifting him from his chair. China cried out in pain and tried to kick at America, but the younger nation easily evaded his attempts and ran the butt of his pistol across China's face, stilling him.

"Are you going to answer me now, you little piece of shit?" America leaned closer to China's face, his own face dark and ready to perform torture. "I have no problem in wiping your disgusting ass off the face of the earth if you continue to act like this."

That finally made the older nation speak.

"I'm sorry!" he cried pitifully. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry I forgot! I'm sorry! I won't do it again!"

America raised an eyebrow, incredulous. "Really? And how, exactly, can I trust any one of you to do precisely that?"

China didn't answer.

"Hm." America looked towards the other nations, who now were leaning as far away from America and China as they could. "Are you not going to save your precious comrade?" he asked. "Are you all that selfish and cowardly?" He snorted. "Wow, who would've thought."

America dropped China back into his seat at that point, and walked back to (Y/N), who didn't flinch or even appeared frightened at her husband's brutality. Placing a hand on her shoulder, America turned to address the other nations.

"Let this be your first and only warning," he began, "You are in the home of the world superpower and his wife, and we will not tolerate any of you taking advantage of our hospitality like this. I have no problem in calling your bosses and telling them how rude and childish you all have been to my wife, and I will guarantee that you regret making an enemy out of me. I once more hope you haven't forgotten what I'm capable of and what I have done to the majority of you after you crossed me."

No one spoke.

"That is my warning to you, but I have no problem in shoving you in the oven and watching as you are roasted alive too." America smiled sadistically, almost giggling at the thought of that. "Now, let's hurry up and clean these plates. We still have dessert coming."

Clearly thankful for the change in subject, the nations went back to their meals, but they apparently lost any appetite they had and were forcing the food into the mouths.

America paid no attention to this.

Eventually all the plates were clean of any and all food, so America and (Y/N) went back into the kitchen to get the desserts. Instead of the homemade doughnuts that (Y/N) had been hoping to bake for a little bit now, both she and America made an oval orange cake that had real oranges adorning it, homemade banana, peanut butter, and chocolate chip ice cream, and white chocolate raspberry lava cakes.

(Y/N) made a different dessert for herself only, which was a small chocolate lava cake. As soon as she and her husband were back in their seats, (Y/N) took up a clean fork and cut off a piece of her cake before placing it in her mouth.

And just like that, dinner was over, and the nations hurried back to their rooms like staying there any longer would kill them.

And those idiots left him and his wife to do the dishes by themselves.

Lovely.

"After we're done with the dishes, we can go take a bath, okay?" America announced gently, turning to (Y/N).

His wife nodded, though she was visibly distressed at the sudden change in everything.


	11. Bathtub Love

Thanks to his fast hands, America and (Y/N) were able to finish washing the dishes in time for their 9:00 bath, and as soon as that came, (Y/N) took off running to the bathroom, grabbing a giant bath bomb in the process.

God, after all that, they really needed a bath.

Eventually the sound of running water was heard, as well as (Y/N) stripping herself of her clothing. Closing the bathroom door behind him, America began to do the same, smiling tiredly but eagerly, and judging from the pace his lovely (Y/N) was going at, she was feeling the same.

"Are you alright darling?" he then asked.

(Y/N) peaked from the changing station, her expression confused.

"With China's accusations," America clarified. "Are you alright?"

(Y/N) frowned, thought for a couple of moments, and then shrugged before darting back into the changing station, the movement saying she was unsure.

Eventually she came out, her entire body exposed in all its glory. Seeing her like that, America could feel himself growing hot, and it had nothing to do with the steam. His wife blushed at him before she moved to turn off the water and grabbed the giant bath bomb she brought.

Judging from its rich red color, America guessed it was either the ripe apple, strawberry and kiwi, or the cranberry bath bomb.

Turning on the camera around her head again so she could watch it for awhile afterwards, (Y/N) moved to place the bath bomb into the water, watching intently as it erupted with a rich red color upon contact. Now free of any clothing himself, America stood behind his wife as the color filled up the entire bathtub and unleashed its scent throughout the room.

Oh, so it was ripe apple, one of his favorite fruits.

Smirking, America placed his hands on (Y/N)'s shoulders, earning a sharp gasp from the latter who refused to glance his way until the bath bomb finally fizzed away. Turning off the camera then, she glared up at her husband, who continued to smirk at her.

"Time to dive in," he said, wasting no time in sweeping (Y/N) off her feet and dumping her into the tub. She fell in with a squeak, red water spilling everywhere onto the tile floor which thankfully had a drain. When she surfaced, (Y/N) wiped at her eyes before pouting up at her husband, who now joined her.

He held up his hands. "Couldn't control myself darling, and that's your fault."

"Huh?!" Eye twitching, (Y/N) pounced on America, taking him underwater with her. Once there, she pounded on her husband's chest before they had to go back to the surface. There, America grabbed the shampoo and poured some into his hand, soon rubbing it into his wife's hair while she was still rubbing at her eyes.

She relaxed after feeling his hands messaging her scalp, and soon she took the bottle from him and squirted some into America's hair, now rubbing the shampoo in herself. Smiling, America brought up a hand and proceeded to run his fingers over (Y/N)'s exposed nipples.

She jerked with a gasp as a shiver ran through her body, and seeing his mischievous hand, (Y/N) lightly smacked America upside the head before continuing with her work. Afterwards, she dove under the water to wash out the suds, with her husband not too far behind her.

Now the red water was filled with bubbles when they surfaced again, and they proceeded to scrub conditioner into the other's hair. America was so tempted to continue touching (Y/N) again, but didn't want to risk getting smacked upside the head again as they submerged again once the conditioner had set in. Returning, America stared at his wife, whose lower face was still under the water as she stared back at him.

He quietly cooed. She really looked like a turtle.

"Are you teasing me again, darling?" he asked coyly, smirking now. In response, (Y/N) just burrowed further into the water until the air coming out of her nose made ripples in the water.

America just smirked even bigger at this. "I'll take it you are. Now, how about you be a good girl and come here?"

Now (Y/N) ducked even deeper into the water, and the only thing visible were her eyes and her halo-like hair.

America pouted at this, though inwardly he smirked as he copied his wife, all while hiding the fact that his hand was near the plug-in to the drain. The both of them kept a very close eye on each other, though judging from the way (Y/N) was keeping still, she didn't notice America's moving hand as it unplugged the drain.

They had a silent drain after all, which will only make things easier for him.

Eventually (Y/N) realized the water was a little more swallow than it was supposed to, and looked down to find the drain unplugged. Face exploding with color, she attempted to scoot away, but America was faster than her and pulled her to his chest, his arms locking tightly around her.

(Y/N) squeaked, attempting to break free of her husband's hold, but America didn't even budge. Realizing this, she looked up into his face, a slightly worried expression adorning her blushing face.

It took every ounce of America's self-control to not take her to the bathtub floor right then and there.

"And where do you think you're going?" he asked, smirking down at her. "You're not trying to leave me hanging, are you?"

A little fearful, (Y/N) shook her head. And by now, the water was at their thighs, and America was quick to put the plug back in to keep the water in.

He kept his eyes on his wife though, smiling with mischief. "I thought not." Then he took her to the flooded floor of the bathtub.

(Y/N) squeaked again, and she now looked like she was too much in the heat to do anything to defend herself. Her red cheeks greatly resembled the water that caressed her frame and caused her hair to look like a halo around her head.

America knew he had never seen anything so beautiful.

"Are you ready?" he asked, voice so low as he intentionally drove his wife crazy with that tone.

Sweating now with want, (Y/N) nodded, her nails digging into her husband's skin.

America's eyes flashed with want. "Then prepare yourself. We're going to war."

(Y/N) didn't have time to even nod when her husband attacked her neck. She hissed out but didn't fight him as his teeth sunk into her flesh and his tongue traced it, causing goosebumps to form. That also was all the distraction that America needed to trace his wife's womanhood with his tool, causing her to hiss out again.

He pulled away and looked into (Y/N)'s eyes, finding that they were filled with desperation, impatience, and, most of all, want. She was whimpering too, hating how her husband was teasing her so.

America just smiled lovingly at it all.

"Don't be done already darling," he warned huskily. "I'm just getting started."

The only thing (Y/N) could do was nod, panting in exhilaration all the while.

From there, America proceeded to trace the curves and valleys of his wife's body, the ones he knew and loved so much, earning him some satisfying shivers from (Y/N) in the process as her nails dug even deeper into his skin. Once more, he didn't flinch at the feeling nor did his skin bleed. America just kept smiling lovingly through it all.

Finally (Y/N) began to push on him lightly, the sign that she wanted more, so much more. The look in her eyes also justified it. So he nodded.

"Of course darling, but don't expect me to go easy on you," he warned once more, earning an irritated glare from (Y/N) in the meantime before she began to sign.

_We've been doing this for years you pea-brain! What makes you think that I'm going to want anything different?_

America chuckled. "Just giving you a warning dear, no need to be snappish."

(Y/N) just pouted up at him. _Just go along with it you!_

America chuckled once again. "Alright, patience darling." Then, without giving his wife a warning, he slowly began to sheathe himself into her, earning a delightful but surprised cry from the woman under him. By now America was unable to keep his smile on his face as electrical shocks raced through his body, setting it on fire.

Hopefully he won't destroy the rim of the bathtub as he tried to cope with the amount of pleasure he was feeling.

(Y/N) wasn't faring any better. Her cheeks resembled cherries, sweat coated her form, and she was panting so hard that, ironically, she wasn't getting enough oxygen to calm her apparently racing heart.

But neither one of them wanted this to stop, at least not right now. America started to pound harder and deeper into his wife, who was crying out like there was no tomorrow. And thank god that they had soundproof walls, for America was not going to explain to the nations on where the sounds coming from the bathroom came from.

The last thing both he and (Y/N) wanted was for France to pester them like it was any of his business.

Still, America felt that he and (Y/N) were going to be doing this a lot while the nations were here. Not that he was complaining, but still.

(Y/N) pushed against him again, and America looked down at her to find that he had slowed down by a lot. So he nodded and began to thrust himself into her so deeply that he was touching her womb.

The pleasure was so much that the both of them had tears in their eyes. The water around them also softened their skin more, making the pain more bearable too, though now America thought the water looked a little similar to blood, if not for the ripe apple smell.

Perfect.

"We're not done yet darling," he whispered once more to (Y/N). "We've got all night."

(Y/N) just whimpered, unable to do anything else after all her husband was doing to her. But clearly she didn't even think of complaining, for she was enjoying this way too much, as was America.

They did have all night after all, and not even the nations could complain in the mornings, unless they wished to lose their heads.

Oh well.


	12. Breakfast

Man, America's head was pounding. And why was his body hurting so much?

Oh, that's right.

Opening his eyes, America looked down, finding a head full of (h/c) hair still sleeping against his chest, her body still nude. Now that he thought about it, America realized that he too wasn't wearing any clothes.

But he smiled at that.

Looking at the clock, he saw that it was almost six o'clock, meaning that (Y/N) would like to get up soon. So, America looked down at his sleeping wife and gently shook her shoulder, earning a groan from her.

"Wake up darling," he whispered. "It's almost six."

Three, two, one...

(Y/N) jumped up, squealing as she rushed to the bathroom, leaving behind her chuckling husband. And from there, he waited for his wife to realize she wasn't wearing any clothes, which wasn't a long wait, because (Y/N) began to mumble to herself in very embarrassed tones.

So, America decided to get out of bed himself and head to the bathroom, where he found (Y/N) searching for something to cover herself up with.

"Darling? Are you okay?" asked America. "You're not thinking second thoughts, are you?"

(Y/N) looked at America, clearly offended but still embarrassed that they fell asleep the night before without putting any clothes on. America chuckled at the sight.

"I thought not. Now, do you want me to help you?"

(Y/N) furiously shook her head, lightly pushing her husband out of the bathroom before closing it behind her. America chuckled once more, loving how flustered his (Y/N) was. She always acted like that every time they had intercourse, and every time she'd like to relive it by herself after it was over.

Still, he should get dressed himself and help his wife get breakfast started before the nations woke up.

~~~

The smell of warm food woke England up from his sleep, and he groaned as his consciousness returned to him. Bloody hell, what happened last night?

Oh, that's right. China badmouthed America's wife, which almost caused him to lose his life.

America...

A sharp stab of pain went through England's heart. America never told him he was married, never told anyone in fact, and he wasn't the America England knew.

Wait, he never knew America. None of them did.

Looking around, England found that France and Canada were also in the process of waking up, the latter who was rubbing at his eyes before he put his glasses on. Once he was aware of the world, he looked up at England.

"Morning," he groaned.

"Morning lad," greeted England, getting up from his bed. "Are you feeling alright?"

Canada opened his mouth before he closed it. He thought for a moment before opening it again. "Not really," he admitted.

Although having a good idea as to why, England sat down. "What's wrong lad?"

"What's wrong?" repeated Canada. "What's wrong? You know damn well what's wrong."

It took a lot of self-control to not flinch on his part. This was probably the first time that England had ever seen the young nation angry.

Wait, when else had he ever seen him angry? Oh, that's right, he doesn't remember!

"That depends," he instead said. "I want to hear it from your own words."

Canada ran his hands through his hair, exasperated. "You want to hear it from my own words," he repeated irritably. "Fine, I'll give that to you. My own fucking brother lied to us from the very start, I didn't even know that I had a sister-in-law, and then there the fucking fact that my brother nearly killed China last night for his big shitfaced mouth. That's what wrong England!"

Offended, England opened his mouth until he heard another groan, coming from the nearly naked man sharing the room with them.

"What zhe..." groaned France. "What's going on...?"

With a glare towards England, Canada muttered, "Nothing Papa."

Awake now, France looked between his former colony and England, clearly not believing them. Eventually he sighed and stood up, heading to the nearest bathroom so they can get ready for the long day ahead.

And now England was wondering what America and his wife had up their sleeves today, and hoped that none of the idiot nations would do something that could get them all in trouble with their bosses or, worse, killed.

America, after all, suddenly looked more than capable of doing exactly that.

~~~

For breakfast, America and (Y/N) made rose and leaf-shaped pancakes, biscuits, bacon, and muffins, also making sure that there was tea, coffee, water, and juice for the other nations. Very simple, America thought.

The smell of the food once more brought the nations down, and, once more, they were silent when they took their seats. America paid no attention to this as he and (Y/N) took their seats and began to eat, (Y/N) signing to America on what was likely to happen afterwards today. A few people watched in confusion, but America ignored them once more.

 _What do you think is going to happen today?_ asked (Y/N).

America thought about it for a moment. _Who knows? With the nations here, we're going to have to take them with us whether we like it or not._

(Y/N) frowned in displeasure, but didn't complain. _I just hope they don't think of doing anything stupid._

America nodded. _Neither do I darling._

"U-Um, America, what are you two saying ve?" asked a surprisingly quiet Italy, who managed to ignore his brother's hiss of dismay.

America turned to him. "My wife and I usually go out to the dance studio downtown to square-dance. And before you ask, England, it's a traditional dance originating from the western parts of my country, and yes, it involves a man and a woman dancing, except they're in a group of other dance partners and are told which dance moves to perform."

England scoffed. "That's not dancing."

(Y/N) glared at England, slowly reaching for her fork. Seeing this, England flinched, realizing his mistake.

"There are many kinds of dancing Mr. Kirkland, and if you got your head out of your fat ass you would see that," remarked an unimpressed America, placing a comforting hand on (Y/N)'s knee to calm her down.

France snorted at the insult, as did Prussia, Romano, Canada, and even Japan; Germany and China were struggling—and failing—to keep their own amusement hidden; Spain and Russia just smiled, while Italy blinked in confusion.

England, on the other hand, turned red in embarrassment and anger.

"Oh, and if you utter one more word Mr. Kirkland, I will sew that hole between your chin and nose closed, and I will bind it so tightly that not even the most skilled doctors will be able to remove it. If you want that to happen, then go ahead, but don't say I didn't give you a warning." America even held up a needle and thread, which he got from out of nowhere.

(Y/N) was giggling at this.

The red was gone from his face just as quickly as it appeared, and thankfully England turned back to finish his breakfast, refusing to say another word.

Satisfied, America put the needle and thread away.

"Also, you all are welcome to join us if you wish," he continued. "And I suggest you do, because I have a bad feeling that you all are going to cause trouble while (Y/N) and I are gone. The same goes for you, Mr. Beilschmidt, Mr. Braginski."

Said men blinked. "Why us, da?" questioned Russia.

"Simple. One: The both of you cannot take control of a meeting and keep it that way to save a life; and two: You're not familiar with the customs here in my country, and that alone spells disaster."

Now Germany and Russia were red with embarrassment, with Russia being a surprising one since America had never known the taller nation to be that easily flustered.

But then he shrugged to himself. It wasn't like it was any of his concern.

Then (Y/N) got up, took her empty plate and glass to the kitchen sink, before leaving to head back to their room so she could change into an appropriate outfit for the dance studio. America got up to follow her, but not before turning back to his coworkers and stating, "Change into something suitable for a dance studio."

He then left without another word.


	13. Square-Dancing Couple

By the time everyone was ready to go, America and (Y/N) were dressed in a western suit, pants, and boots, and a long dress respectively. They also were waiting in the limo for the other nations to hurry along their asses.

Though thankfully they didn't have to wait long.

When the nations came out, they were either dressed in casual and slightly classy clothing (like England, France, and China), and England was still blushing in embarrassment. Faintly, America thought he heard France teasing the other nation for the insult he made earlier.

Thankfully England didn't even think of raising his voice, though (Y/N) plugged in her earplugs so she wouldn't have to listen to the two men. America, however, ignored them quite easily.

Other than that, the ride was quiet until they arrived at the dance studio.

As expected, there was a large group of people there, so (Y/N) didn't freak out, and they too were dressed in clothing suitable for square dancing. The ones nearest to the road spotted the limo heading for them, and America stopped at the parking lot before exiting the vehicle and moving to open his wife's door.

Smiling, he held out his hand, ignoring the other limousine doors opening. "My lady?"

(Y/N) smiled back and took her husband's hand, allowing him to guide her out of the car, close the door behind him, and lock it.

The nations were out by the time America pressed the lock button.

Speaking of whom, they were appearing bug-eyed at the sight of the crowd, many of whom greeted America and (Y/N) like they were old-time friends (which they were), and after the husband and wife duo walked in first, everyone else followed.

The nations tried to follow, but quickly lost sight of the two. So, they just decided to stand in the corners of the dance studio.

"Fucking great," hissed Canada. "Why is it that my brother is not able to stand out like a beacon here?"

Japan deadpanned at the oldest of the North American brothers. "That's because there are peopre who rook exactry rike him, Canada-san. Besides, we are here to have fun, not make the worst of it rike you seem so keen on doing."

Canada glared at the Asian man, who ignored him and turned to address the others, who were clearly wishing they hadn't come at all.

"Ve~It's so hot in here!" whined Italy. "I want some pasta!"

"Quit whining dumbass," ordered an irritated Romano. "You wanted to come so you're going to have to deal with it."

Italy whimpered, but otherwise didn't complain again.

Germany was sweating a little, as was Spain, but none of them dared to complain as they continued to search for America and his wife, who really were lost in the crowd as the people began to get themselves ready for square dancing.

Germany and Spain would be lying if they said they weren't curious as to what the dance looked like.

England and France however were complaining as usual, and were earning some ugly glances from the people around them. Hell, even China, Prussia, and Russia were receiving the same glances when the three of them decided to be idiots and insult the dance. They blushed in embarrassment and silenced themselves, but even as the people prepared to dance, they still sent glares their way.

Germany would've felt sympathy for them if they hadn't been complete idiots.

Then he spotted the people he was looking for, and, like everyone else, American and (Y/N) were in a small square of people, completing the four males and four females routine in the square. Then the music began, indeed sounding Western American.

With big smiles on their faces, everyone listened carefully to the singer as it told the dancers what dance moves to perform and who should perform them. Sometimes the couples would go in a full circle called a promenade, and would continue to go at it until the singer stopped singing it.

Then, often times two men would step forward, bow to each other, and do a do si do around each other before everyone else would follow, except the males would move around each other, and the females with the other females. The females would do the same, except they would curtsy instead of bow before doing the do si do with each other.

This would continue on for some time, and the nations watched as everyone laughed, smiled, and even sighed in delight throughout the dance, and as they scanned American and (Y/N), the both of them appeared to have the time of their lives. They truly looked like they were made for each other, like nothing in the world mattered but each other.

They really were in love.

Germany was sure he wasn't the only one who felt jealous of that.

The buffer nation even spotted how the other couples near America and his wife would smile at them, like they were the ideal couple.

Now Germany felt out of place in this place, and now wished more than ever that he did not come.

Though he understood why America brought him and the others despite how it may end, which surprised even him. How could he understand someone he thought he knew, but never did?

Germany truly was a stupid fool.

~~~

America and (Y/N) danced and danced, uncaring of who was watching or that the people around them were eyeing them with a mixture of awe and jealousy. As the song came to an end, (Y/N) began to perform the do si doe with another female across from her, who whispered, "I love that dress."

As (Y/N) moved around her, she smiled at her before returning to her husband's side for a brief moment. After it moving around the other females, (Y/N) moved with America, who spun her around as instructed in the song and promenaded in a full circle with the other couples. Finally, with a few more verses, the song ended, as did all dancing.

Then there were the cheers of excitement from the people around them, and fortunately (Y/N) had her earplugs in so the sound wouldn't hurt her ears and overwhelm her. Either way, she smiled big with America, a little disappointed that the dance had to end, but feeling satisfied all the while.

She loved square-dancing, mostly because of the routine it had. There, she didn't have to worry about having to come up with different dance moves on the way, which can be quite disastrous if she didn't practice beforehand. Here, she didn't have to worry about that.

She loved it, and so did her husband.

America bowed to her once more, offering his hand. "Shall we, my lady?"

(Y/N) gave him a playful pout (she hoped) and allowed him to lead her to the snack table, which had plenty of food and drinks for everyone. America got the both of them apple juice and burger, though (Y/N) just got the meat and a bun with some ketchup, some fries, chips, and a little cake, before heading off the side.

That was where they found the nations.

America eyed them, amused by their obvious discomfort. "Just to warn you, we're not going to be making lunch when we get back, so you may as well eat what they've got here."

That snapped the nations out of their stupor, and they quickly went to the food station while there weren't a lot of people near it. Clearly China was lightly complaining about having to eat western food, but the glares he got from the people around him once more made him shut his shit-hole of a mouth.

The other nations didn't dare to fellow in his footsteps, and thank god for that.

Still, America made a mental note to give China a piece of his fucking mind when they were back in the limo, and, from the looks of it, (Y/N) appeared more than happy to help, though at the moment, she was too busy enjoying her food and drink.

So America quickly joined her.

That was going to have to wait then, but America wasn't complaining.


	14. Bath Bombs

They ended up staying at the dance studio for nearly the entire day, and by the time they began to head back to the house, many of the nations were lying in the car seats, looking as dead as doorknobs. A few had their eyes closed, while others looked ready to follow. America didn't really pay that much attention to them as he drove back home, (Y/N) smiling big beside him.

America quietly chuckled; square-dancing always left his lovely darling eager instead of tired, which always baffled him. He still loved it though.

When the house came into view, (Y/N) waited for her husband to get out of the car before she rushed the both of them into the house, the nations not too far behind. No longer paying attention to them, (Y/N) dragged America towards the bathroom, coming back afterwards to grab a large purple shower bomb and rushing back, a huge grin on her face.

"U-Um...Mademoiselle?" asked France.

(Y/N) screeched to a halt, the grin gone from her face as she looked at France with irritation, clearly wondering what he wanted. The man gulped before opening his mouth again.

"I-Is it alright if we...um, use one of your bath bombs for ourselves tonight?"

The irritation disappeared for a moment, and (Y/N) blinked, now confused. Then she sped off without saying anything.

China had been about to comment again on her behavior when she returned with America, signing in the meantime. America nodded and looked to France, the question on his face. Once the older nation nodded, America turned back to his wife.

"He's being genuine darling, and no, they're our guests, so they're not going to be paying you for that."

(Y/N) frowned again, but didn't complain as she moved towards the large closet she came from previously. Seconds later she came back with a cart, carrying rows upon rows of bath bombs. The nations immediately went over to inspect the bath bombs.

Some were small, while others were larger and more effective. Best of all, none of them appeared to have the threat of leaving behind dye in the bathtub afterwards. (Y/N) stood next to the cart, looking at them intently.

"She's waiting for you to choose," clarified America.

The nations snapped themselves out of it and went towards the cart, looking at the various scents of the bath bombs. There was apple, strawberry, kiwi, lavender, vanilla, cotton, and even tea. There were also the mixed combinations, like strawberry kiwi, chocolate vanilla, and even peach tea.

The nations almost decimated the cart when they picked their choices.

England and China had picked tea-scented bath bombs, whilst Japan picked cherry blossom, Canada picked maple syrup, the Italy brothers picked fresh cotton, France picked sugar cookie, Russia picked sunflowers, Germany and Prussia picked cinnamon sugar, and Spain picked up fresh lilies. Seeing as they had their picks, (Y/N) took the cart back to the closet and went back to her husband's side.

"If I were you, I'd use those separately," warned America. "Using those in the same night will create a very strong scent that won't go away for weeks at a time. Trust me, the last time that happened, it was not exactly pleasant."

Everyone nearly face-planted.

"And you're going to have to wait while (Y/N) and I are done with our shower. That also won't be pleasant if we have to share the hot water with two different bathrooms at once."

Suddenly America developed a confused expression on his face, especially when Japan's face went so red he resembled a strawberry, and not only that, but blood was dripping from his nose. France also developed a perverted look on his face, and the others even looked stunned.

"You take showers with your wife?" asked Canada.

America raised a confused eyebrow. "We do. We are married after all. Isn't that what most devoted couples do with each other?"

No one answered, though most of them were blushing up a storm.

Taking that as a no, America waked away, an arm around his wife's shoulders.

And now that he thought about it, the urge to do something to (Y/N) while they showered together was becoming so tempting that America couldn't keep the mischievous smirk from spreading across his face.

Oh, this is going to be good.


	15. His Naughty Wife

As soon as they got to the bathroom and closed the door behind them, locking it in the process, America didn't hesitate to turn to (Y/N) and rip off her clothes, earning a surprised squeak from her in the process. Once he had gotten her nude, America pushed his wife against the wall, giving her no room for escape or a way to fight back against him if she wanted.

(Y/N)'s face was red once again, and she was clutching at the shower bomb like a shield of sorts. It wouldn't help her though.

"Get ready darling," he whispered huskily into her ear. "It's about to get really hot in here."

(Y/N) could only let out a quiet squeak as her husband moved away from her and began to strip himself in front of her. All the while, she found herself unable to move or tear her eyes away as she watched America's every move, and she began to shake with anticipation and shyness as his clothes fell around his feet one by one. Seeing this, America smirked and proceeded to trace his body in front of her, watching as his lovely darling began to pant and shake, her face heating up even more.

Finally, nothing covered his body, and his clothes were all over the floor.

"Come darling," he urged seductively. "Let's get this party started now."

(Y/N) didn't protest as she shakily ripped open the wrapping of the lavender scented bath bomb. Once the wrapping was completely gone, she clumsily walked towards the shower, where she placed the bath bomb and stared at America with a pleading look that almost took away all self-control from him.

And, ironically, it took every last bit of that self-control to not pounce on his wife right then and there.

He headed into the shower, closing the door behind him, and approached (Y/N), gingerly avoiding the light purple shower bomb on the floor as he went. He reached out and wrapped an arm around (Y/N)'s shoulders, bringing her to his chest, while his free hand was on the knob.

"You ready?" he asked.

(Y/N) nodded, and America felt the sweat forming on her skin, so sexy that once more America literally felt pain as he suppressed his desires. Turning the knob to warm, he then turned on the shower, allowing the shower-head above them to rain water down onto them.

It wasn't long before the strong scent of lavender took up the air around the couple, and they inhaled deeply as they scrubbed at themselves. America smiled at the smell of the lavender, for it was so strong that he actually thought that he was in a field of lavenders for a moment. As soon as he was done scrubbing his hair though, he opened his eyes and seductively gazed at his wife.

(Y/N) had a hard time focusing on her hygiene, and now she was on the shower floor, looking up at her husband with desperation and impatience. Seeing this, America grinned, appearing like a very horny animal, and throwing self-control to the wind, he pounced on his wife.

(Y/N) didn't make a sound of protest as America pinned her hands above her head, though despite the slickness of her skin, he felt her shaking with anticipation and impatience. He smiled down at her.

Then, without giving her any warning, he plunged himself into her.

(Y/N) cried out in pain and surprise, and once she recovered, she pouted angrily up at her husband, with gave her a strained smile in response.

"You asked for it darling," he wheezed. "So I'm giving you what you wanted."

His wife just kept pouting, but from there she allowed her husband to do whatever he wanted. Still, no matter what she would want, America would give her so much more, and it probably enough to drive her into insanity.

With the shower raining above them, (Y/N) had a hard time keeping her eyes open as her husband danced inside of her, as his fingers would explore the valleys and curves of her body, and as his mouth would taste her skin. She was unable to keep the desperate whimpers from escaping past her lips, which proved to not be the best idea on her part, for a little bit of water got into her mouth, and the lavender shower bomb was inhaled sharply into her nose.

She couldn't cough though.

By now, America had pinned his wife's hands above her head, giving him more access to her breasts, those beautiful, round breasts. America smirked at them, and proceeded to run his tongue over them, and sometimes even lightly nibble at them with his teeth. This earned a light hiss from (Y/N), who lightly tapped her husband.

 _Stop!_ she was begging. _I can't breathe!_

But America just smirked with triumph at her. "You were asking for this darling, which meant that you wouldn't be able to breathe for a little bit."

(Y/N) glared at him, but didn't protest, causing America's smirk to widen. He won this again.

Now that that was out of the way, America proceeded to explore his wife's body, both inside and out.

This was the body he was never going to get tired of, not in a million years.

And there was no other woman who could compare to his wife's beauty.

Speaking of his wife, (Y/N)'s face was so red she once more resembled a tomato, and her lips were pressed tightly together, not out of the pleasure she was feeling, but because she was irritated. So America decided to loosen his grip...

and his wife pounced on him, taking him to the shower floor.

As soon as his back collided with the wet tile floor, (Y/N) pinned his hands above his head and positioned herself so her husband couldn't touch her. America eyed her, wondering what she was about to do.

(Y/N) was glaring down at him with both irritation and a possessiveness that America rarely sees, and it instantly made him eager and unwilling to fight back. Eventually (Y/N) slid down to her husband's lower torso, where his tool was waiting, and without giving him a warning, her hand shot out for it and she began to squeeze with all her might.

America was unable to stop himself as his back arched, a gasp escaping past his lips. He instantly wanted to tangle his fingers in his wife's wet locks, but her grip on him wouldn't let him, and she continued to squeeze his shaft in an angry sort of way, almost like she was punishing him for teasing her the way he was earlier.

Eventually, she decided to end her husband's suffering by positioning herself above his shaft, going onto it at an excruciatingly slow rate, and even when she began to bounce up and down on it, she was still going slow.

America swore no torture could ever compare to this.

 _Don't give me that expression,_ (Y/N) traced irritably. _You have to feel what I feel when you tease me so._

"S-Still..." America couldn't finish when his wife's fingernails dug into his skin, digging so deep that they could draw blood.

_Don't complain._

America couldn't reply to that because (Y/N) was going a little bit faster, but it was still painfully slow. America was grunting like crazy, unable to control himself, and his legs were acting of their own accord too, but (Y/N) seemed to have anticipated this, for she dodged them without even looking at them. While she rode her husband, she leaned forward and placed her lips and teeth against his neck, sucking so hard America thought the skin would come right off.

Finally, (Y/N) decided she was done torturing her husband, so she released his wrists and let her fingers tangle themselves in his gold locks. Now that his wrists were freed, America proceeded to use them to clutch at his wife's back, his own nails digging into her back as she continued to suck the life out of him. (Y/N) didn't seem to notice this as she continued her work, though America did feel her smirk against his skin.

There she was; his naughty wife.

(Y/N)'s fingers began to lightly trace her husband's lips, and she pulled away from his neck to eye them. She smiled possessively again, but as she moved to place her lips on his, the door to the bathroom suddenly opened.

"America, are you two done yet--oh..."

America never wanted to kill his brother more than he did then.

(Y/N) began to growl angrily, and she slowly stood up, giving her the appearance of a very hungry but angry wolf, and she grabbed her husband's razor as she approached the shower door, where a now terrified-looking Canada was standing.

America was also sitting up at this point, glaring at his brother. "You have five seconds after I'm done talking to get out, otherwise I won't stop (Y/N) from gutting you like a fish."

(Y/N) was taking out one of the razors without taking her eyes off Canada, and by now Canada was backing up towards the door.

"I-I'm sorry!" Then he was gone.

(Y/N) was still growling angrily, and at this America stood up and wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

"Well, we do need to get out of the shower anyway. The shower bomb's completely gone at this point."

(Y/N) pouted at this, but she agreed nonetheless, though she still looked angry. America knew he was going to join his wife in hunting down his stupid brother for thinking he owned their home.

Canada was not going to have a good night tonight, of that much America can guarantee, but he didn't care.


	16. Foolishness

In all the time France had known his former colony, he never knew him to do anything that could get him maimed.

Well, unfortunately for both said nation and his former caretaker, the latter's worst fears were about to be confirmed.

France had been drinking wine in the living room when Canada came bursting out of the hallway, his face pale as death but his cheeks filled to the brim with blood. France immediately abandoned his wine when the other nation collapsed in front of him, his mouth opening and closing, but no sound he could understand would come forth.

"Matthieu, calm down!" urged a worried France. "What has happened?"

Canada tried to speak again, but the only thing that came out of his mouth were inaudible mumbles.

"Mr. Williams," came America's voice, and suddenly even France froze, because when America came out of the hallway, dressed in a muscle tee and cargo pants, his very presence appeared like they were encountering death. Following right behind her husband was (Y/N), and she too looked threatening, added by the fact that she was holding a pan in her hands.

Canada began to back away, his hands up. "A-America, I-I can explain..."

"Explain?" repeated America, whose feral grin nearly took up half of his face. "How can you explain what I already know, my stupid brother?"

"Amerique!" cried a surprised France, who moved to stand in front of Canada. "Zhat is no way to speak to your brother--"

"Is it?" questioned America, and suddenly he looked ready to unleash Hell on France. "That's ironic, because you never stopped Canada whenever he spoke poorly about me, but then again, you and England always favored Canada over me."

France's breath hitched. "W-What are you saying? Angleterre and I did favor you--"

"There it is. You did favor me in the past, but nowadays, you prefer to talk behind my back like a child, not caring if I was within earshot. You and the other nations are clearly don't want to see the truth, so you sit on your lazy asses and talk about me like you know everything about me. Well, guess what Mr. Bonnefoy, you don't, and I'm glad that I was never your friend or family, because I would probably be exactly what you all are; spineless, short-sighted, and arrogant."

France started to shake, and his voice wouldn't work as he tried to deny America's words. He always cared about America, and sure he had been annoying, but he was still a child. Then France's heart stopped.

Had he really become blind all these years? If so, then that was coming back to bite him in the ass. Where had they gone wrong? What the hell happened?

"If you get the point, get out of my way," ordered America. "I still have to speak to my stupid-as-hell brother, who seems to think he has the right to do whatever he wants in my house."

France didn't fight back when America roughly pushed him aside, not caring if he hit his head or managed to make it back to the couch. Canada was still backing up, fear apparent on his face, but there was also the guilt.

America didn't pay attention to that.

"Now, how about we head to my office to have a chat?" he asked darkly. "I have a lot of things I want to say to you Mr. Williams." Then America turned to his wife, his face quickly shifting to one of love. "Darling, can you get dinner started while I have a chat with Mr. Williams?"

Clearly thankful for the distraction, (Y/N) nodded and headed to the kitchen, and she easily ignored the pleas of mercy from her brother-in-law as her husband dragged him to his office. Seconds later, he began yelling at him, sounding so angry that (Y/N) wouldn't be surprised if Canada would have some bruises or cuts on his form afterwards.


	17. Offer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the long wait everyone. I haven't been feeling well enough to update things here, and to be honest I still don't feel well, but I like to think I'm getting there. Anyway, I'm going to try getting the rest of the chapters I have for this book moved from here to Wattpad today, but if not, I'll do it tomorrow.

As soon as she arrived to the kitchen, (Y/N) grabbed the necessary pots and pans for the recipes she was going to make tonight for dinner and dessert. Turning on the stove, she took out some vegetables and spices for the soup, some red peppers, and other ingredients. Seeing that Alfred was not having the best of days, she wanted to make one of his favorite dishes, and she didn't give a damn if the nations wouldn't like it or not.

Grabbing the red peppers, (Y/N) proceeded to cut off the top of them with a sharp knife, before cutting off the stem and scooping the contents out of the pepper itself and the top. Once she was sure that it was free of the seeds and other contents, (Y/N) cut the round parts off the bottom of the peppers so they would be able to stand on their own. And from there, she moved to the pan.

She covered the pan with her homemade tomato sauce before placing the onions she had sliced up previously into it, mixing them together before spreading the latter around the pan. Once she was satisfied, she moved to another bowl, where she proceeded to mix some meat and certain spices into. Once they were mixed together, she grabbed the peppers, placed them in the pan, and proceeded to place some portions of the seasoned meat into each of them.

Once the peppers were full, (Y/N) placed a little more tomato sauce into them before placing the tops on them and covering the peppers with a sheet that would help them cook better. Then, setting them aside, the oven dinged that it was done heating up to 375 F, and she quickly got started on another batch before she placed the both of them in the oven so they could cook for an hour.

Then, as (Y/N) was about to get started on the beef stew, Alfred walked in, looking very satisfied but drained. He then sniffed the air, smiling in bliss.

"Is that stuffed peppers I smell darling?" he asked.

Smiling, (Y/N) nodded, causing her husband to smile.

"Thoughtful of you darling, I already can't wait to have some!" He then looked over her shoulder at her current work. "You making beef stew?"

(Y/N) nodded again.

Alfred smiled. "Well, let me help you with dessert then."

(Y/N) nodded, a big smile now on her face.

~~~

An hour later, the stuffed peppers, beef stew, and the little desserts America made were finished, and as America set the table, (Y/N) focused on getting the still hot pans and plates out to the table, going slow so she doesn't disturb the food's positioning. She was also mumbling to herself all the while, which stopped as she set the food on the table.

After they were finished, America decided to wait for a minute to see if the nations would arrive by the smell of the food, mostly because he wanted the food to cool down first. However, when they failed to arrive, he turned to (Y/N).

"Let's go get them I guess."

(Y/N) had an unimpressed look on her face the entire time they move to announce dinnertime to the nations, but to their surprise, they didn't find them in their rooms like they expected.

Then America remembered Canada, and mentally slapped himself in the forehead. Of fucking course.

He and (Y/N) went to his study, where he found a mentally scarred Canada being tended to by many of the nations, who jumped to their feet when they saw their hosts. America should've guessed that they would crowd around the North American nation they cared for most despite them forgetting him so many times, but he didn't feel the familiar pang in his heart at this.

He lost that so long ago now, and he no longer cares about it.

"Dinner's ready, so you better hurry and get to the dining room before it gets cold," America warned, before looking to his shaking brother. "And I suggest that you remember your manners Mr. Williams so this doesn't happen again. However, if I catch you doing that little stunt again, I will be calling your boss to inform him of your behavior, and I am not going to leave anything out, do you understand?"

Terrified, Canada nodded like the weak man he was. God, America couldn't believe he had a brother like him, for he was so weak that it was almost painful to look at him. No matter, America enjoyed having fun with that, and it was another thing that made him glad that England and France never favored him.

He didn't want to imagine what he would've been if he had been like they were.

Quietly, the nations did as they were told, avoiding looking at America and his wife all the while. (Y/N) snorted at this, glared at her brother-in-law one last time, and walked with America to the dining room, where they took their usual places at the dining table. America took a stuffed pepper onto his plate and scooped some beef stew into a small bowl, while (Y/N) just had the beef stew.

She never really liked peppers despite how good they smelled and looked. Once, she tried a pepper, and she was screaming in pain for so long that America automatically thought her mouth was on fire, so he gave her a big glass of water. The water itself was gone in a second.

Still, the burning feeling in her mouth had not disappeared for days, and neither (Y/N) nor America wanted to experience that again.

And just as quietly, the nations picked up some stuffed peppers themselves, beef stew, or both, and served themselves their favorite beverages. America and (Y/N) made sure to keep the lemon drops out of reach just in case anyone of them got the wrong idea and thought the lemon drops were a part of the dinner course.

Either way, most of dinner had been quiet, just the way the couple liked it, and then France looked at them.

"A-Amerique?"

America looked his way. "What is it?" This better not be about what he told him earlier, otherwise America was going to send a knife through his genitals.

"I-I got a call from my boss," France began. "He was wondering if we could go to my country for some business."

(Y/N) tensed, and America placed a comforting hand on her knee. "Is there a reason for this?" he asked.

"I-I'm not precisely sure, but it seems zhat we have to return to business while we are zhere."

America looked to his wife and back to France. "When?"

"Two weeks."

Now America looked longer at (Y/N), feeling her relax under his touch. "I see. I think we'll be able to do that."

"Huh?"

"My wife has to work this week and next week, but she gets a couple weeks off after that. How long are we supposed to be there?"

"A week?"

"Then we'll think about it. (Y/N), you did say you wanted to see Paris, didn't you?"

(Y/N) nodded, smiling. She then sighed something.

_You know I've always wanted to see their food, candles, and bath and shower bombs face to face._

_That I do darling. That I do._

"Alright, so is everyone done with everything?" America then asked, looking at the empty plates, the empty bowl of where the beef stew used to be, and the empty pan where the stuffed peppers used to be. Nodding, America got up and presented the lemon drop, a lemon-shaped sugar sphere filled with citrus mousse, Thai basil gelee, lemon chiffon, and lemon sorbet. To further give it a lemon appeal, America had added two edible leaves to the sphere, pasted on with melted sugar.

"Well, let's finish dessert then. (Y/N) has to get ready for work in the morning, and she goes to bed at a certain time." With that, America cracked the sphere open so he can eat it as well as its contents and eventually everyone was not too far behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to see the recipe I used for the stuffed peppers, go to this link (http://allrecipes.com/video/5515/chef-johns-stuffed-peppers/?internalSource=videocard&referringId=17562&referringContentType=recipe%20hub)
> 
> If you also want to see the lemon drop, go to this link (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zTjzJsZ5Hko)


	18. Like Normal People

(Y/N) tiredly opened her eyes to a dark room, and the feeling of her husband's arms around her slim frame. She blinked a couple of times, trying to get the sleep out of her eyes before she looked at the clock.

4:10 a.m.

It was time to get ready.

Trying to not wake Alfred, (Y/N) slowly got out of his warm arms, and as soon as she was out, she quietly went to the bathroom to get ready, grabbing her work clothes in the process. There, she brushed her hair and put it up, washed her face and hands, brushed her teeth, and put on deodorant before she changed from her pajamas to her work clothes, which consisted of a short-sleeved dark green T-shirt, black pants, the matching socks, and dark brown slip-on shoes.

There was also a winter attire for this, but since it was still warm out, there was no need for it.

When she stepped out of the bathroom, Alfred was still asleep, but now he looked like he was in a position of where he was trying to find her. (Y/N) resisted the urge to return to bed and walked out of their shared bedroom to the kitchen.

There, she heated up some blueberry pancakes that she cooked just the other day, grabbed a fork, and sat in the kitchen, taking big bites when the pancakes were heated to her liking. She always loved the blueberry flavor and when blueberries were placed in things she liked, but strangely she hated eating the actual berries by themselves. (Y/N) sometimes hated her tongue, because it always told her what she could or couldn't enjoy, and there was a list of things that many other people enjoyed, the things she hated.

She wanted to enjoy salads, but the texture of the lettuce and other vegetables felt like sandpaper on her tongue. She wanted to enjoy mashed potatoes, but the taste was so strong that she could only handle one bite (or two if she was lucky). She wanted to enjoy coffee, but the bitter aftertaste stayed in her mouth for days and no matter how much she brushed her teeth, it wouldn't go away.

Most of all, she wanted to enjoy the various foods she made for her husband, but she could only handle a minority of them.

Why couldn't she have been a normal woman? She hated being this way, for it made things so much harder for her, and she couldn't be like other people.

"Darling?" a familiar voice called tiredly as the owner walked into the kitchen. "You heading out?"

(Y/N) gasped in surprise and jumped into the air, almost dropping her now empty plate and fork. Recovering quickly, she glared at Alfred for scaring her, finding him wincing in sympathy.

"Sorry darling, didn't mean to scare you," he said quietly, walking over to her. Unable to stay irritated with her husband, (Y/N) nodded and allowed Alfred to wrap his arms around her shoulders after she placed the plate and fork into the sink. She then rested her head against his broad chest, listening to his heart beat.

How could people give hugs freely and not feel uncomfortable? (Y/N) never understood, and it took a long time for her to allow Alfred to hug her freely, mostly because if she's hugged without any warning, it would be like she was suffocating and cause her to go into survival mode. Thankfully Alfred understood and always asked her and, depending on her answer, he would always hug her in front so she'll know it was him.

She was thankful that she met her husband, otherwise she didn't know where she would've been in life.

"What's wrong darling?" Alfred suddenly asked, and (Y/N) almost flinched. Why was it that other people were unable to tell of what she was thinking, but Alfred could read her like an open book?

Knowing it was no use, (Y/N) gently pulled away from her husband and signed to him. _Alfred, do you ever wish that I was a normal person? Like, really normal?_

Alfred's gaze felt hot on her, but (Y/N) forced herself to keep going.

_Do you ever wish that you didn't have to look after me all the time? Where I'm not so sensitive? Do you ever?_

Alfred didn't answer, and now (Y/N) would be an idiot to not know that her husband was displeased with her. She shifted uncomfortably, knowing she also probably signed what felt like her death warrant, and tried to look at anything but her husband.

But Alfred was having none of it. He took (Y/N)'s chin between his fingers and gently moved her face so she was looking right at him. For a moment (Y/N) looked into his sky blue eyes before turning to look at some other spot on his face.

There it was. She was still unable to look her own husband in the eye.

"Darling, let me ask you a question," Alfred began. "Can you define "normal" for me?"

(Y/N) stared at her husband, confused. What was he trying to get at? Anyone could define normal! It was...it was...

...

...

...

(Y/N)'s eyes widened. How does one define normal?

What is normal?

Alfred stared at his wife, patiently awaiting her answer while still keeping her face looking at his own. However, when she never answered, he took that as his cue to speak.

"Haven't I told you before darling? There's no such thing as normal, especially in people. Everyone's different in one way or another, and for others it's more apparent. I'm not normal, you're not normal, and guess what? World's still turning. And I love you just the way you are (Y/N), we've been over this before. Nothing's going to change that, and I don't want it any other way. You're (Y/N), my beloved wife, and there's nothing about you that I would change, ever."

(Y/N) slowly blinked to keep tears at bay, though from the way Alfred gently brushed them away, he caught them. "Now, no more of that darling. You should head to work now."

Oh crap! Damn it (Y/N)!


	19. The Shop

Her shop looked just like it did a couple days before, with its simple design, the large brick building, and what it contained inside. Of course, (Y/N) couldn't see what was inside at the moment since it was so dark, but she always knew exactly where everything was the second she laid eyes upon it.

It was a big building, which was to be expected because it was a bakery, a restaurant, and a cosmetics store in one. (Y/N) mostly worked behind the scenes despite being the boss, and was always the first one here on work days.

Unlocking the doors, (Y/N) headed to the cosmetics shop first, where she made sure everything was in order and clean. One section of the store contained the lotions that her employees made, along with lip glosses and even face masks under her watchful eye, while another side of the store contained the candles, most of which was made by (Y/N) herself. There was also the homemade bath-bombs, and (Y/N) made sure that the wrappings weren't ripped before she headed for the bakery.

As expected, everything was clean, the display cases were empty, and one of her managers had bought the ingredients for the new set of delicacies that were going to be baked today. (Y/N) headed to the sink to wash her hands before grabbing the necessary utensils for her shop's well-known snack: coffee sponge cake.

Grabbing a clean pan, (Y/N) wrapped the bottom up in aluminum foil so any water she bathed it with wouldn't leak out, after which she slightly greased the sides and placed parchment paper on the bottom. Then, in a separate, smaller, bowl, she mixed heated warm milk and instant coffee together before mixing up five eggs, vanilla essence, salt, flour, and the mixed milk and instant coffee.

After mixing it, she then began to mix up the egg whites and fine sugar before mixing the two batches together before adding whipped cream. Once it was all mixed together, (Y/N) poured it into the pan before placing it in the oven.

While it baked, (Y/N) then got started on the another popular item in the bakery section of the store: Ring Dings.

As she was mixing the batches together, (Y/N) heard the door open and a pair of footsteps heading to the kitchen.

"Oh, good morning (Y/N)!" greeted one of her managers, Aya. She was a very pretty woman despite being her in her forties, and her thin blonde hair was held up in a high ponytail, which made her dark brown eyes stand out. She also was the one of the most patient people (Y/N) knew, which was what she looked for in her managers, especially when it came to dealing with the things (Y/N) wasn't good at.

(Y/N) smiled at her. _Good morning Aya,_ she greeted. _How was your weekend?_

Aya just smiled as she put on an apron and went to wash her hands. "Oh, you know, the usual. The little munchkins are once more driving me crazy, and my lazy husband was just letting them do what they want."

(Y/N) laughed. _You know that's not true Aya,_ she pointed out.

"I know, I just love messing with you," Aya replied with a chuckle of her own. "Anyway, how was your weekend (Y/N)? And how's your husband doing?"

It was a struggle to keep her smile on when she replied. _My weekend was alright, but..._ (Y/N) trailed off, unsure of how to continue.

Aya eyed her, her smile no longer present. "What's wrong?" she asked. "Did you have a fight with Alfred?"

(Y/N) jumped. _Oh, no, no, no, it's not like that. It's just...Alfred and I have unwanted guests over, and they happen to be the people he works with._

Aya's frown deepened. "Oh dear," she began, now heading over to (Y/N) so she could help her with the Ring Dings. "And things are going well I hope?" 

(Y/N) sighed. _I suppose it could've been worse,_ she admitted. _Though, they seem to think that Alfred's still the idiotic happy-go-lucky guy they thought he always was even when he's shown them his real personality. God, I don't know how he was able to do it, and I can't believe that one of them is his brother!_

Aya said nothing for a moment. "I'm sorry to hear that sweetheart," she said. "How long are they going to stay?"

(Y/N) shrugged. _I don't know, but I'm hoping that they aren't going to stay long, because it's already taking a toll on Alfred, and they're making me so angry. I know I shouldn't be angry Aya, but I just can't stand the people who think they know everything about my husband when they don't._

(Y/N) felt Aya gently nudge her in the shoulder, bringing her attention back to the older woman. "Just stay strong sweetie, I know it's hard, but try to not let them get to you too much. Now, don't get me wrong, I understand why you're not fond of them, but they are your guests, so try bearing with it for a little bit longer. I know that I'm asking for a lot, but can you just try for me?"

(Y/N) stared at her manager for a moment or so before looking into her Ring Ding mixture and continued to stir it absentmindedly. Aya moved to do the same, but kept looking back to her boss, patiently awaiting her answer. Meanwhile, (Y/N) thought over the proper words to say. 

What could she even say to the older woman anyway? She knew that Aya would not judge her no matter what decision she made, but it still made things hard for her.

She hated those nations, and she doubted that anything would change that, which meant that all she wanted was for them to be out of her husband's life forever, but Aya was right about one thing. She was a hostess, and hostesses were required to put their guests' needs first, even if they were people they disliked. So, gritting her teeth and trying to breathe, (Y/N) turned back to Aya.

 _I'll try,_ she signed. _But I'm not going to guarantee that I'll be nice to them._

Aya smiled and nodded. "That's good enough. Now, the cake's almost done. Do you want me to get it?"

(Y/N) shook her head. _Oh no, I'll get it,_ she reassured. She then went back to the sink to wash her hands, just before the oven went off to signify that the delicacy within it was finished baking. _You just focus on the Ring Dings you're making._

Aya gave (Y/N) a salute. "Aye aye captain," she replied, chuckling soon afterwards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you wish to see the recipe for the coffee sponge cake, go here (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PEgvvemXMyY). Also, if you wish to see the Ring Dings, go to this link (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2UbK-hEvQIQ).


	20. Mocking Peace

The morning was quiet, save for the morning birds coming out to sing their morning tunes as soon as the sun rose over the horizon and the slight breeze that rustled the leaves outside the house, and America temporarily closed his eyes to find peace in the sounds before he quickly went back to cooking breakfast.

The nations never knew this, but America always woke up early and only came to meetings late to not blow his cover, which worked very well. He loved the mornings, ranging from the fresh scents of the morning dew, to the sounds the morning animals made, and even the sight of the sun rising over the horizon, turning the sky a beautiful orange, pink, blue, and purple.

Mother Earth sure was very beautiful. And America could understand why his dear (Y/N) loved the morning as much as he.

Not to mention the scents of breakfast early in the morning.

Ever since (Y/N) went to work, America had gotten himself busy with preparing breakfast for the nations, and it's been an hour now. In an almost lazy manner, he cooked up some fluffy pancakes with a few kinds of berries on top of them, some french toast, scrambled eggs and egg sunny-side-ups, and even some rice, steamed buns, and eggplants so he won't have to listen to China bitch about his food.

America sighed in irritation. For a nation who was older than he was, he sure was immature. Huh, and they called him immature.

Oh well, America didn't really give a fuck at this point.

It wasn't too long after he was finished placing the food on the table that the sleepy nations walked in, the scent of the food once more leading them in. America looked up to them and nodded in greeting.

"Good morning," he greeted, heading back to the kitchen. "Just so you know, I've already eaten, so the food's all yours." He then walked back to the kitchen before anyone could say anything, though as he walked into the kitchen, America heard England mutter something.

"Tch, bloody git probably already stuffed himself with those disgusting burgers of his."

America easily ignored this.

But it was true; he already ate before he made breakfast, and thank god for that. He wasn't in the mood to deal with his so-called coworkers at this time, especially since it was a beautiful morning and he didn't want to let them ruin it. Besides, it was time that he made a little treat for his little darling.

It's been awhile since he made it, but (Y/N) loved it that she had two of them in a row despite their size. America almost died of laughter when his wife ended up getting a stomach ache afterwards, but he still winced in sympathy for (Y/N)'s predicament.

Still, after all that was going on, America wanted to surprise her for lunch today.

But first, he needs to wash the dishes and clean the counter again before he got started on his new dish.

Of course, (Y/N) was usually the one who did the dishes, the laundry, ironing, and the dusting, while America vacuumed, made the beds, mowed the lawn, and paid insurance, mostly because (Y/N) was never able to handle the noise of the vacuum, the lawn mower, couldn't make the sheets fit to save herself, and couldn't even sit still for many hours to pay taxes to save herself. So, they had agreed to be the ones who did specific things to keep the balance.

That meant that since today wasn't "Washing Dishes" day as (Y/N) liked to call it, she wouldn't punish America for doing her job for her.

Bubbles floating in the air, America smiled at the clean feeling the bubbles and water were giving his hands as he washed the dirty dishes. Out of all the chores, washing dishes was very calming and peaceful, hence why (Y/N) mostly did it. And America surely needed that peace right now, but why he wasn't exactly sure.

Then America heard someone approaching from behind him, and he froze.

"What is it Japan?" he asked without looking up, causing the person behind him to jump and gasp in surprise. This motion was not a great idea, because Japan had been holding an empty plate and cup, and when he jumped, America could hear them fly in the air in response.

Japan hissed and dove to grab the plate and cup before they could hit the floor. Thanks to his samurai and ninja skills, he did exactly that, and he looked at the taller nation in apology.

"Sorry about that," America said, finally turning to face the Asian personification.

Japan shook his head. "It's no probrem Amerika-san," he dismissed nervously. "I just came to put this in the sink, but you are aready washing the dishes, so I didn't know what to do."

America nodded. "I see," he said, then held out his hand. Japan eyed it, confused, until America spoke up again. "Since you're here, I may as well get it cleaned now."

Japan's face flushed red with embarrassment, and he was quick to give the plate and cup to America, who then placed it in the dishwater before he began to wash them both. He then heard Japan uneasily walk out of the kitchen, but paid no mind to this as he continued with his work.

Then more footsteps came to the kitchen, stopping right in the doorway. There were even sharp gasps from some of them, and America resisted the urge to snort, but he did roll his eyes.

Another surprise for the nations, huh? How hilarious.

"Are you all going to stand there like deer in headlights, or are you going to bring your dirty dishes to me?" he called, once more not looking up.

The people behind America jumped at being caught, and hesitantly headed over to him, where they slowly handed him their empty plates and cups before backing away quickly. America paid no attention to this as he placed dish after dish in the sink and proceeded to wash them, but then he sighed in irritation when the people behind him didn't move to leave the kitchen.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, not bothering to hide his irritation. "If you have nothing to say, you may as well leave to do whatever you want."

No one spoke for a moment, though many took that as their cue to leave without complaint. Others, however, stayed, and America was finishing the last dish when someone decided to finally speak up.

"What are you doing America?" It was England, and he was attempting to sound judgmental, but was failing miserably. America once more resisted the urge to laugh mockingly at his former so-called caretaker.

Tch, caretaker, yeah right.

"You should know the answer Mr. Kirkland," he said, placing the dish on the rack and grabbing a dry towel to dry them with.

He could feel England's glare on the back of his head. "I can see that you bloody git," the nation snapped. "I meant why are you doing it?"

America turned to look at England, an unimpressed look on his face all the while. "Asking useless questions are we?" he asked, a mocking eyebrow raised. "Why am I doing it, you ask? Are you suggesting that I'm so useless that I can't even wash a simple dish or fulfill my responsibilities?"

No one answered.

America scoffed. "Since you're not going to answer me, get out. I still have work to do, and I don't want to waste any time answering your rhetorical questions."

Many of the present nations turned red with embarrassment and even anger, but before any of them could voice the latter, America walked over to them, pushed them out of the kitchen, and closed the door after them.

"Immature westerners!" cursed China. "This is not how you treat your elders boy!"

"Says the nation who has a Hello Kitty collection that's bigger than any girl's in the world and who blindingly followed England during the Opium age," America countered.

Even though he was outside the kitchen, the superpower could hear China sputtering with embarrassment and humiliation before he growled and stormed down the hall.

"Anyone else?" he called. When no one answered, he said, "I didn't think so" before going back to the dishes and getting started on drying them.

Still, just what were they up to? Were they that stupid to think that he would be just like his mask? That he could be taken down with mere words?

It seems that they continue to forget who they were dealing with.

But America guessed that it could've been worse. Way worse.

Then, once the dishes were all dry and clean, he grabbed the appropriate utensils and began to get to work on his treat for (Y/N), heading to the fridge to grab the crab meat, the chicken broth, some flour, water, and a roller, just after he cleaned the table top to remove any threat of cross contamination.

America smiled as he got to work once more. Oh man his dear (Y/N) was going to flip out over this, and he couldn't wait until it was time for lunch to head over and have it with her.


	21. (Y/N) the Boss

Earplugs in, (Y/N) was working on one of the bath bombs most of her customers bought, which was a giant blue bath bomb designed to look like a ball surrounded by ocean waves. Its scent was a fresh tropical scent that, once being placed in water, would fill the room with the smell of fresh water, tropical fruit, sand, and other things related to the ocean, which would give the user the feeling that they were at a beach.

Not to mention even after they were done bathing and had drained the water, the scent would linger in the skin and in the bathroom for a long time.

Since it was spring, it was the perfect bath bomb to buy, and it had been in high demand lately, so (Y/N) and those who worked on the bath bombs with her had been hard at work at making it. There were also those who were working on other bath bombs, bath salts, bath fizzies, and even soaps with different scents, like spring meadow, sugar cookies, chocolate, and so much more relating to spring.

The bakery and restaurant were doing fine on their own, and, as expected, the Ring Dings and coffee sponge cake had sold out almost immediately, but Aya (who had been prepared for that happening) replaced the empty trays with newly baked Ring Dings and had placed a freshly made daisy cake roll inside the display case.

And even from where she was (Y/N) was able to smell the foods that the chefs were making in the restaurant section of the kitchen, and she almost coughed at the scents coming from all kinds of different lunch entrees, but she was quick to get used to it.

"U-Um, Mrs. Jones?" a shy voice asked from beside her. Hearing it through her earplugs, (Y/N) looked to her right, finding one of her newer employees, a young boy named Emmanuel, looking at her, worrying his lip.

"Hm?" (Y/N) asked.

Emmanuel held up his bath bomb, an uncertain look on his face. "Did I do this right?" The bath bomb he held in his hands was not exactly round, and he seemed to have added very little scent to it. However, while this did irritate her a bit, (Y/N) understood that the younger boy was still learning how to do his job and wanted to make sure he was doing it right.

He was also one of those rare kind of boys who could be considered a tomgirl, as he enjoyed wearing feminine clothing and paying attention to his appearance, and who thankfully found his first job at (Y/N)'s store. (Y/N) found that he was willing to work hard in order to earn respect amongst his fellow coworkers and boss, and when he showed her his skill at making soap, she hired him on the spot.

Though, he still had much to learn.

(Y/N) looked at the bath bomb some more before motioning for Emmanuel to follow her, just after she placed her finished bath bomb down. Blinking in clear confusion, Emmanuel did as he was told, watching as his boss got to work on another bath bomb, grabbing a camera to wrap around her head so she could record it, and motioned for Emmanuel to watch her work.

Emmanuel's eyes didn't leave her hands as her hands forged a second tropical bath bomb, its strong scent making his eyes water, but he didn't tear them away. It would be many minutes later when (Y/N) was done, and she placed the fresh bath bomb aside before cleaning her hands and looking at Emmanuel, turning off the camera in the process.

She tilted her head in question, and Emmanuel smiled at her.

"I understand now, thank you so much Mrs. Jones!" With that big smile still on his face, he rushed back to his station, and (Y/N) followed him, watching over his shoulder as he got started on another bath bomb, making sure to do the exact things that (Y/N) did with hers.

(Y/N) found herself smirking in pride. Emmanuel really had a good memory, and he sure knew how to use it.

And once he was finished, he had created an exact replica of her kind of bath bomb with precise detail.

Emmanuel beamed up at her. "I did it!" he almost cried out in joy. "I did it!"

Everyone looked their way in surprise before shrugging and returning to work, but (Y/N) and Emmanuel paid no attention to them as Emmanuel moved to get started on another bath bomb. (Y/N) then looked at the clock; it was about five more minutes until lunch break, so they were going to have to finish up whatever they were working on before heading out.

Leaving unfinished bath bombs and other works here unchecked was not the best idea.

So, (Y/N) worked to clean up her station and wrap up the fresh bath bombs, taking them out to the display case outside. As expected, this section of the store was full of people, most of them girls, and they were checking everything out with the vigor of love-struck schoolgirls. Clearly they were having a hard time deciding which ones to buy and which ones to not buy, and they looked dejected when they couldn't buy everything.

It was nice to see that her store was so successful, able to pay its employees well and taxes. Of course, (Y/N) always needed help with the money part, because she could not count the right amount of it to save herself.

And that was saying a lot, because she was a grown woman for Christ's sake!

Eventually (Y/N) went back to her workstation, and a buzzer went off, signifying lunch break.

Hearing it, everyone was quick to finish up and clean up their stations and themselves before they headed out for lunch, (Y/N) not too far behind them after she checked that everything was in order and in check. She went to the break room, where she proceeded to wait for her husband to arrive with whatever he had made for her.

This happened every lunch break she has at work, and Alfred would always be the one who came to lunch with her, bringing his homemade food. That meant that he's probably already left the house by now, which made (Y/N) dread what the nations were going to do now that the house's owners were out of the house, but forced herself to not think about it, as it would ruin her appetite.

Then, just on time, Alfred arrived, his car appearing in the parking lot of the store and his tall and broad form appearing in the doorway carrying two large bags.

(Y/N) smiled and went to the door to help her husband, and he smiled at her when she got that done.

"Thanks darling," he said, giving her a kiss on the forehead, in front of all the customers, who aww'd at the sight. (Y/N) blushed and guided her husband to the guest lounge, which was thankfully empty besides them. She then guided Alfred to the table, where she sat down and waited for him to sit down next to her and present what he had made today.

The smile on his face told (Y/N) that she wasn't going to be disappointed, especially when he pulled out two plastic take-out boxes that contained something steamy inside, as well as two long straws.

She eyed Alfred with confusion, but he just continued to smile like nothing was wrong.

"I've made you something special darling," he told her before handing one of the boxes and straws. When (Y/N) continued to eye the box with confusion, Alfred gently urged her on. "Go on darling."

So, (Y/N) opened it, causing steam to come out and into her face. Inhaling it, her mouth watered, and when she looked at what the box contained, her delight was apparent.

It was a giant soup dumpling, and it looked just like the ones that she and Alfred had at New York City. It even smelled like the one she had in that shop, and she took her straw and placed in the opening in the dumpling, taking a small sip.

The flavor exploded on her tongue the moment it touched it, and it was exactly like the dumplings she had in that shop. Gasping in delight, she began to drink the dumpling's contents, ignoring her husband's chuckling from in front of her.

"So that means you like it?" Alfred asked.

(Y/N) gave him a look that said, "Are you stupid?" before she nodded and continued to drink the soup of the dumpling. With another chuckle, Alfred opened his own box and began to drink the dumpling's soup as well.

After pulling away, Alfred smiled at his wife. "So, how's the work coming along darling?"

Beaming, (Y/N) began to tell her husband of the good work going on, and even Emmanuel's progress, and Alfred listened to her intently, still smiling all the while, but none of them noticed that they had uninvited guests until Alfred frowned and looked at the doorway of the guest lounge.

"You can come out now," he announced irritably. "And I have to admit, your spy skills need some work."

(Y/N) was now ready to kill someone, and that someone happened to be more than one person, and the people who were staying in their home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you wish to see what the giant soup filled dumpling looks like, go to this link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=krMbwXNXv2c&t=29s. I swear the channel INSIDER have the best looking foods out there!


	22. Hypocrisy

America and (Y/N) glared at the people who shamefully entered the guest lounge. It was the nations, or most of them when America scanned over them. To his surprise, he didn't see Italy, Germany, Japan, Romano, or even Russia with them, but pushed that thought to the back of his mind as he continued to glare at the present nations, waiting for them to explain themselves.

"Well?" he asked. "Are you going to say something, or am I going to have to decide what to do with you now?"

Snapped out of it, France stepped up, hands up in surrender. "Forgive us Amerique," he began, "but we were only curious about your wife's shop and wished to check it out and what she did for a living."

The other nations nodded, and America scanned over them, searching for any sign of deceit. So far, he found none, but that didn't explain why the Axis, Romano, Spain, and Russia weren't with them.

"Was that the only reason?" he asked curtly.

France flinched, giving himself away. It was at that point that America knew his eyes turned lifeless when he saw this.

He stood up slowly, walking over to them. "Tell me," he began, "do you know how much blood the human body can have?"

The nations' faces immediately turned a pasty white, and they began to back away, but unfortunately they closed the door the moment they came into the guest lounge.

"I'm sure you know the answer to that," America continued darkly. "After all, you are the older nations." He scoffed. "Older nations my ass, you all seem to think that you are mature, but have any of you noticed how you've been acting since the day we've started meetings together? Since the day you discovered who I really am?"

No one answered.

"That's right, you haven't. You know, while you complain that I get into your business, you are actually hypocritical, because none of you seem to understand that you are trying to get into my business. And for that, I'm afraid I cannot let that go unpunished."

By now the nations were beginning to hyperventilate, and America felt (Y/N) pulling on his shirt sleeve. Glancing at her, she sighed to him.

_If you're going to do that, do it outside. I don't want to have a big mess to clean up and I don't want to have to explain to my employees or, worse yet, the customers why there was a fight going on here or why there was blood on the floor._

America nodded. "Of course darling." His eyes then turned lifeless once again when he looked back at the nations. "But before we get started, I want you to tell me something."

"W-What?" asked Canada.

"Why are the Axis, Romano, Spain, and Russia not with you?" America asked.

"W-What does that have to do with--"

"Quiet!" hissed America, glaring at his weak brother. "I'm the one asking the questions here, not you, you stupid cunt! Now, answer the question: Why are the Axis, Romano, Spain and Russia not with you?"

Canada stepped back, looking as if America had just slapped him, but America continued to glare at him and at each nation present, and when none spoke, he slowly reached for his hunting knife, which he always kept on him.

Seeing this, the nations were quick to answer. "They didn't want to come aru!" answered a clearly terrified China. "Italy, Romano, Spain, and Japan believed that we shouldn't spy on you or your wife and what we were trying to do is wrong! Germany and Russia agreed with them, saying that we'll only be punished severely if we go along with this plan!"

America smirked darkly. "And that's exactly what happened," he said. "And now that I know what I need to know..." He quickly pulled out to taser, which he then used on all the nations, causing them to collapse to the ground. "It's time for your punishment, and believe me when I say that none of you are not going to be punished gently."

While America was busy with gathering the unresponsive nations over his shoulder, (Y/N) watched the entire thing, sipping the rest of her soup dumpling until it was empty and, after extracting the straw, took a bite from the dumpling, chewing slowly as the chewy and soft bread touched her tongue and moved to glide down her throat.

She then closed her husband's box containing his half-eaten dumpling to save for later, sighing when the buzzer signifying the end of lunch went off, just after Alfred left the room to give the nations their just desserts.

But as much as she wished to see that, (Y/N) had to get back to work, and she can only be happy with the fact that those foolish men were going to be punished for attempting to spy on her and her husband until it was time to head home.

She smirked at the thought. The stupid nations finding out what happens when you piss off a superpower all over again. This was going to be fucking good. And hopefully she will not scare her employees when she gets back, otherwise she will have some explaining to do, which she will not look forward to.


	23. Hot Fruit Cake

After another long but successful day, (Y/N) drove home, carrying a handmade floral roll cake. As she didn't have anything else to do after she was finished with her bath bombs and candles, (Y/N) had decided to spend the rest of her time baking something for Alfred, who would no doubt still be very angry with the nations when she got home.

So, she had thought _Maybe I should bake him a cake then._ as a thought to help calm him down.

And take her mind off the stupid nations.

Well, most of them were stupid anyway, so (Y/N) made a mental note to thank the nations who decided not to come out of respect for her and Alfred's privacy. Maybe she should make them something too.

But what did they even like?

(Y/N) decided to think about it when she got home and gave the cake to her husband, if he was even home that was. She prayed that was the case, because she absolutely hated coming home after work to an empty house, mostly because it made her worry that something happened to Alfred.

And with what happened this afternoon? (Y/N) didn't doubt that something could've happened to him.

Thankfully though, when (Y/N) parked her car in the driveway, Alfred's car was there, and there was even a light on inside the house, further assuring her that her husband was home. Turning off the car, (Y/N) got out, grabbed the cake, and walked up towards the door, preparing to unlock the door with her keys.

But then the door opened, and the person who opened it was no one other than Russia, who looked down at her quietly. Jumping back in surprise, (Y/N) almost dropped both her keys and the cake, but Russia's hand shot out to wrap around her back, preventing her from falling. Wincing at the feeling of someone (especially a complete stranger) touching her, (Y/N) did her best to ignore it as she righted herself up, quickly signing to the taller nation.

_Thank you._

Russia nodded, stepping aside so she could enter the house before closing and locking the door behind her. Turning to face her, his voice was surprisingly gentle when he spoke up.

"If you're looking for Amerika, he's in the living room, and the others are there too."

(Y/N) suddenly dreaded what she would find in that room, but nodded in thanks to Russia before walking with him to the living room and kitchen, and what she saw made her unsure whether she should snicker or wince.

The nations who decided to spy on her and Alfred were in the living room alright, looking like they've been put through Hell. They were covered in painful looking bruises, there were some open wounds here and there, and they overall looked like ragdolls that had been kicked and punched even after their bodies couldn't take anymore. The nations that stayed behind were eyeing their more reckless coworkers with sympathy or irritance depending on who they were.

But then again (Y/N) didn't really notice this, mostly because she couldn't detect emotions to save her life, and she was looking for her husband, who happened to be in the kitchen from what she was hearing.

So, ignoring the nations, she went to the kitchen, indeed finding her husband, who seemed to be seething a little still. He was in the process of washing something, probably his hands from the looks of it, and (Y/N) hesitated to enter the kitchen and call for Alfred, but that didn't seem to be necessary, because Alfred glanced over at her, a smile appearing on his face.

"Welcome home darling," he greeted, wiping his hands before he walked over to his wife and placed a quick kiss on her forehead. (Y/N) scrunched her forehead in distaste, glaring up at Alfred with irritated eyes, to which he chuckled to.

"Couldn't help it darling," he said light-heartedly. "I just wanted to do something that wasn't related to beating the shit out of someone."

Remembering the nations, (Y/N) snorted. _So what did you do to them?_

Alfred batted his eyes innocently. "Nothing," he mumbled.

(Y/N) wasn't impressed. _Alfred._

Alfred chuckled again, holding his hands up. "Okay, I may or may not have literally beat them to bloody pulps, often one at a time and in front of the others so they would know what was going to happen to them when their turn came up."

(Y/N) giggled at that.

"Then, I actually made the pervert and the sorcerer wannabe to be together physically. I even ripped off their clothes for good measure, all while I whipped them mercilessly."

Now (Y/N) was finding it painful to keep her laugh in.

 _I take they did not like it at all?_ she asked.

"Not even close darling. And I have to admit, I also laughed my ass off afterwards, and made sure that they wouldn't speak for a long time after that. The others though didn't seem to think that was funny, but who cares? I was having too much fun anyway, and needed to vent my frustrations out on them."

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow. _Where did you take them anyway?_

Alfred smiled. "To that abandoned building that everyone seems to think is cursed. I'm willing to bet that anyone who walked by it really thought ghosts were the ones who were screaming and ran for their lives." He snorted at the thought. "Oh man, what I wouldn't give to see that."

(Y/N) nodded. _Me too. Oh, and...um..._ She held up the floral roll cake, showing it to her husband, who blinked.

"What's that for darling?" said man asked.

A blush was his first response as (Y/N) signed. _It's for you,_ she signed.

Alfred blinked again, this time in surprise. "For me?"

His wife nodded.

Walking over to her, Alfred looked at the fluffy and flower decorated roll cake quietly for a few moments before he smiled and took it from her, being very gentle with it all the while. After placing it on the counter, he went to the cupboard, grabbed a plate, then a fork and knife, and walked back to it, cutting off a piece.

When the piece was cut, the inside exposed a flower-shaped strawberry in the middle despite the cream. Alfred slowly licked his lips, which suddenly made (Y/N) feel hot and bothered, and it took every last bit of her self-control to not express it outwardly, otherwise, there was no telling what Alfred would do to her once he saw it.

God damn her sadistic, but brilliant, husband.

Thankfully for her, Alfred was too busy placing the cut piece of cake onto his plate before he cut off a piece of it and took a bite. Chewing slowly, Alfred didn't express anything for a moment, nor did he say a word, and (Y/N) watched his every move closely, wondering if she did something wrong.

Oh god, she couldn't have, could she?

Please say something. Say _something_!

Then Alfred smiled again, this time bigger, and any fears that (Y/N) felt disappeared very quickly.

Her husband looked at her. "Delicious as always sweetheart," he said, taking another bite of the cake. Before both (Y/N) and Alfred knew it, the cake slice was gone, leaving behind a frosting and crumb covered plate and fork, which the latter placed in the sink before helping his wife wrap the rest of the cake up and placing it in the fridge. It was only after (Y/N) closed the door that she squeaked.

Alfred had suddenly wrapped his arms around her and lifted her up, carrying like she was still a newly wedded bride. Blushing in embarrassment, she wacked at his broad chest, which had little effect on him as he carried her out of the kitchen.

 _W-What are you doing?!_ (Y/N) demanded, knowing that the nations were watching them as they disappeared down the hallway. _This isn't funny!_

Alfred smirked down at her, and any fight (Y/N) had left her immediately when she saw it, with it being replaced by a worried eagerness that made her feel hot and bothered all over again.

 _Alfred?_ she signed wearily. _What are you doing?_

Her husband kicked open their bedroom door, still smirking at her all the while. Then, when he closed the door, he suddenly threw her onto the bed, causing her to squeak once more. Sure that her face was as red as the strawberries in the cake roll, she began to pant, unable to stop herself.

"My oh my," purred Alfred, leaning over his wife. "Someone is eager I see. That's good, 'cause I need some release, and you're going to be the one to give it to me, my sweet little cake."

Why did she get the feeling that she was going to see white afterwards? Oh right, this was the cause.

(Y/N) didn't know whether to laugh or squeal, but it wouldn't matter. When Alfred was horny, he was going to get what he wanted, whether she liked it or not.

This better not leave her painfully sore in the morning.


	24. Steamy Night

The hours passed by, and all the nations had gone to bed, though a few of them needed help getting to their assigned rooms, and even had a hard time getting to sleep. Eventually they succeeded, but two people remained awake, and these people were the married owners of the house.

Inside the master bedroom, dark green candles burned, bathing the room in a citrusy scent and a dim glow. The atmosphere was filled with not only this calming and romantic smell and appearance, but also the hot moans of the woman underneath the man on top of her, the latter who was touching her sweet and sensitive spots. Her wrists were bound to the bedpost, her body was free of any clothes as her husband, and she was covered in sweat and love bites.

And good god she was having a hard time getting one gulp of air, but at the same time she couldn't bring herself to care at all.

Still, (Y/N) continued to pant, her heart beating so fast that it was almost felt like she had run a marathon. She didn't even have to look in a mirror to know that her face was as red as her apple-scented red candles, nor look at her husband to know that he was in the same predicament.

But seeing the look on his face, (Y/N) found herself cursing Alfred for being able to keep his shit together while being the dominant one in bed.

"Hm? What's this?" Alfred mused, leaning closer to his wife's flustered and sweaty face, a seductive smile on his face. "Are you done already darling?"

The only sound (Y/N) was able to make was a protesting groan, and even then she could only glare up at her husband in irritation, which, to her dismay, only made him chuckle more.

"I didn't think so, but I'm sure you knew I was teasing you," he remarked.

If her wrists weren't bound and she was too busy trying to restrain her want for him, (Y/N) would've smacked him.

"Now then," Alfred began, tracing his wife's curves again, making her bulk upwards and inhale sharply, "how badly do you want me darling?"

He traced the roundness of her breasts, occasionally running his fingers over her pointy nipples, and (Y/N) flinched as an electric shock zoomed through her body as a result, causing her to bury her head even further into the pillow.

"Will you continue to resist me?" Alfred continued, who now moved to run his hands over her bare stomach, leaning in to run his tongue over her naval, and (Y/N) rolled her hips upwards in result, trying to quell down her urge to beg for more. "Or will you let me claim you?"

Oh god...

_Oh good god..._

(Y/N) wasn't sure how much of this she could take before she began to scream out her pleas, but she knew it would only be a matter of time before that happened, and she wasn't sure she was looking forward to it or not.

Then Alfred began to finger her clit.

"Ah..." (Y/N) moaned against her will, and she began to fight against the binds to no avail, causing her to curse at Alfred for his skill at tying the best knots out of anything. Her face--no her entire body felt hot, and it continued to grow the more Alfred played with her. Faintly, she heard said man chuckle again at her expressions, and he leaned down towards her.

"You're making lovely expressions again darling," he whispered into her ear. "Let's see if you can make more."

W-Wait, what are you--

Alfred stuck two fingers into her, and (Y/N) couldn't stop a surprised but pleased gasp to escape from her, and she began to twist and turn under her husband as his fingers began to dance inside of her, spreading her womanhood out, which began to prompt a reaction inside of her.

 _I-I'm going to--_ she thought, clenching her teeth as she resisted the urge to cum. Unfortunately for her though, Alfred took note of this.

"You want this, don't you?" he asked, voice still husky as he eyed her with what she believed was lust and dominance. "Sadly, I can't let you have an orgasim yet darling, not until I say so."

Oh hell no, why did _this_ side have to come out?

"So, turn over," he ordered.

(Y/N) gritted her teeth, doing nothing, but she squeaked when her husband extracted his fingers from her vagina, leaving her feeling empty and cold, but then he smacked her (gently of course) in the bum, startling her enough to make her squeak again.

"I said turn over," Alfred ordered again, his voice rough and leaving no room for protest.

(Y/N) did as she was told, finding herself feeling more desperate than before, which caused her to pant with exhilaration.

"Now, get on your knees." After (Y/N) did so in the best way she could with the binds on her wrists, her husband went on. "Lean against the post."

She moved to the post, leaving her vagina open for all to see, and her face now felt painfully hot at this point. As a result of her position, she didn't see the change of expression on Alfred's face after she got into this position.

"Get ready darling," he then told her. "We're about to have the time of our lives right here."

(Y/N) didn't doubt it, especially when her husband began to trace her lower torso with gentle yet painfully slow caresses that made her whimper in dismay. Had Alfred heard her, he didn't pay attention in favor of his work on her.

Then she realized she should've been paying more attention.

(Y/N) cried out when something forced itself into her vagina, pounding into her over and over again as cry after cry of pleasure flew from her, once more proving to be out of her control. Her mind was now going haywire, preventing her from thinking clearly as to what was going on, but judging from the position of her husband's hands on her, he finally injected himself to her, finally ending one part of her suffering.

She could even hear him panting above her as the walls of her womanhood crushed his own manhood.

"God--" Alfred inhaled sharply. "God damn it, darling...! You're so...tight!"

The only response (Y/N) could make was more panting and moan, especially when Alfred's hands began to tighten on her skin.

Then her husband began to ruthlessly pound into her, causing her to cry out in rhythm to his movements, and she was unable to get even one breath of air into her now burning lungs. She could feel the orgasm coming, proving to be out of her control, and she began to pant even harder than before.

She needed to release, _now_.

So she did, and then felt something being added with it.

It was Alfred, who was groaning like there was no tomorrow, but he continued to pound into his wife, regardless of the fact that he too was cumming.

Not only that, but (Y/N) was starting to see white, causing any and all sense to fade from her.

Then, just as suddenly as it had come, it was gone, and (Y/N) was back in the real world.

What the...? Did she just pass out?

"Darling?" Tired, (Y/N) looked up, finding that she was still naked and covered in sweat, the binds no longer around her wrists. Alfred was still on top of her too, but now he was looking down at her with what she believed was concern, judging from the way his hand was on her shoulder. He sighed when she responded. "Oh thank god..."

"Uh?" Why did her husband sound like that? How long had she been out?

 _Alfred, what happened?_ she signed, surprised to find that she could even sign well.

"You blacked out darling," answered her husband, and he laid down beside his wife, wrapping an arm around her sweaty form. "I was a little too rough with you, and your body and mind couldn't handle it."

(Y/N) blinked in surprise. _Then...how long have I been out?_

"A couple minutes."

"Huh?!" A couple minutes?! She was sure that she had only been out for a few seconds!

"Calm down darling," urged Alfred, his grip tightening a little on her shoulder. "The fact that you didn't stay unconscious a few minutes or so longer means that you should be fine. Though now I know that we shouldn't try that again."

(Y/N) could feel the dismay before it was even there, and she stared at her husband like he just told her he cheated on her. How could he say that? They've been doing this for years now, and this was what was supposed to happen during sex wasn't it?

Sure, (Y/N) may not have been familiar with many sex positions (nor did she want to do some of them), but she knew that some people liked rough sex and others who liked gentle sex. She liked both of them, and while she understood her husband's feelings, he needed to consider what she wanted.

 _Alfred, I'll be fine. This isn't the first time this happened you know,_ she told him.

"I know darling, but I'm always afraid that I may have hurt you too much. This kind of sex is different than when we have sex in water or the bathroom."

_I know, but I'll be fine. It's not like you're killing me._

"But..."

 _Just go to sleep with me,_ (Y/N) interrupted, glaring at her husband in irritation. _We can worry about this next time, and I still need to go to work tomorrow thank you very much. God, you're lucky that I love you and that I don't have work first thing in the morning, otherwise I would've kicked your ass._

As expected, Alfred's eyes widened before he began to chuckle into his hand before he burst out laughing. Eventually he stopped and looked at his wife, smiling.

"I'm glad of that too," he admitted. "But yeah, we should go to sleep, but first, let's blow out the candles."

(Y/N) nodded, inhaling the comforting spicy scent of citrus, then watching Alfred blow out the tiny flames on the candles one by one, the smoke flying into the air and out of existence. Then he joined her back in bed and the both of them went to sleep, (Y/N) more tired than she had ever been in her life.

She wasn't sure if it was good or bad. But right now she was too tired to care.


	25. Morning Questions

"U-Um...Ms. (Y/N)?"

(Y/N) paused in her cooking and looked towards the kitchen door, feeling irritation bubble in her chest until she saw who was standing at the door.

It was Italy, and he was fidgeting with his shirt sleeve and biting his lip. Confused, (Y/N) tilted her head, wondering why he was making those motions.

Was he nervous? Or...was he scared...?

God damn her brain!

She signed, _Yes?_ but then remembered that Italy didn't know American Sign Language. Cursing her brain again, she washed her hands again, grabbed a pen, and wrote what she signed.

"Um...is it alright if Fratello, Spain, Germany, Japan, and I come over to your work for lunch later?" he asked timidly. "I heard the food there is really good and you even serve pasta in your restaurant. Ve, if you don't want us to go, we won't complain, I promise."

(Y/N)'s eyes widened. She hadn't been expecting that question at all. From what she heard from Alfred, Italy was childish, was always eating pasta, and was never able to be serious, but Alfred never bought it, for the shorter nation was older than he was and faced much more conflict than he wished to. Still, her husband never spoke fondly of the former Axis nation, and actually sounded annoyed with Italy.

Something that (Y/N) shared full-heartedly.

But still...

She shrugged and signed, but at Italy's confused silence, she mentally slapped herself for getting and wrote down her response.

 _That's fine,_ she replied. _But I would ask you to not expect the pasta to be to how you make it, for as you know, I'm not familiar with how you cook in Italy, though I may be wrong._

Italy smiled. "Thanks Bella!" Then he walked away, leaving a confused (Y/N) in the kitchen.

She shrugged it off and went back to cooking. Alfred was already setting up the table and placing his own breakfast dishes there, and (Y/N) was finishing things up. After that, she was going to head to work, and this time she would spend all day working in the bath, beauty, and candle section of the shop, so she wouldn't be the ones greeting Italy and his companions when they arrive.

Fuck.

"Darling?" Alfred's voice cut through the silence, startling (Y/N). She was quick to look at her husband, about to scold him for scaring her like that, but with how silent he was and how his voice sounded, he must've been concerned.

"Are you okay?"

(Y/N) nodded. _Yes,_ she responded. _Italy was just wondering if he could bring his friends to my restaurant for lunch later._

"Hm," Alfred mused thoughtfully. "I wonder what they're planning. Well, might as well let them enjoy your store, it's the best in town after all."

(Y/N) blushed. _It's not the best,_ she protested.

"Well, it is to me." Alfred then walked over to his wife and placed a quick kiss on her forehead, turning her an even deeper shade of red. When he pulled away, he smiled at her.

"Let's eat before you get to work, shall we?" All (Y/N) could do to respond was nod.

Inside, she was cursing at her husband for making her feel flattered so easily. And for loving it deeply.


	26. Eat Out

"Are you sure we should be doing this?" asked Spain, worriedly.

"Ve?" Italy asked, confused. "What do you mean?"

"We all know how much America and his wife detest us, especially after what the others have done yesterday," explained the tan-skinned nation.

Italy deflated a little before he quickly composed himself. "W-Well, I asked Miss (Y/N) if we could come over for lunch, and she said we could, ve."

"Probably as long as we don't make a scene," Romano grumbled. "And I don't you about you bastards, but I'd rather not get my ass kicked if I do something they don't like."

"You're not the onry one," Japan chimed in.

"Ve, not only that, but I really want to try the food there," Italy admitted with his usual ditzy smile. "I heard that they also have pasta!"

Romano grumbled something under his breath, but no one could hear the exact words.

Then Spain spoke up again. "Did you invite Russia as well Italy?"

Italy jumped. "U-Uh, well..."

"He didn't want to come," Japan replied for the Italian. "Something about not being hungry after what we have had for breakfast. To be fair, I'm not rearry too hungry myserf after breakfast."

Germany deadpanned at Italy. "And jou still vant to go to out to eat at zhe restaurant?"

Italy sweat-dropped. "V-Ve, of course I do! Miss (Y/N) may be expecting us when we arrive, and I don't want to disappoint her if we don't show up!"

"I don't think she even wants to see us, stupid fratello," grumbled Romano again. Surprisingly, Italy ignored him.

Germany looked at Japan, then at Spain, finding that both men's expressions matched his own concerned one. After what happened yesterday with the others, Germany did not want to know what America would do to him if he did something he or his wife didn't like. Of course, he may have been fooled by America's mask, but at the same time he wasn't an idiot, not after last night.

But still, he would be lying if he said he wasn't curious about the food that America's wife served at her restaurant.

And Italy was not exactly helping.

Eventually, Germany sighed. "Fine, ve shall go, but I'm only going to be having a drink if zhey have anyzhing I like."

Italy beamed. "Si!"

~~~

"(Y/N)?" questioned Aya. "Is everything alright?"

"Ah?" (Y/N) looked at the other woman, confused. _What do you mean?_

"Well, you look ready to jump out the window," Aya replied. "Which tells me that you're nervous about something. Is everything alright?"

 _Yeah,_ replied her boss. _It's just that we're going to have some foreign patrons at the restaurant, and they happen to be some of my house-guests._

Aya's eyes widened. "Really?" she asked. "Why didn't you say anything this morning?"

(Y/N) blushed in embarrassment. _Slipped my mind._

Aya deadpanned before she scoffed in amusement. "Good grief girl, you really had me worried there. I thought you were going to say that something happened between you and Alfred, and you would be scared of going home after work. Though..." (Y/N) suddenly felt scared when the older woman's voice turned teasing and seductive. "Maybe you're just recovering from a night of passionate love-making?"

(Y/N) jumped up, her face surely as red as tomatoes. _A-Aya!_ she signed quickly. _Don't say things like that in front of the others!_

"Oh they can't hear me," Aya replied, voice still teasing. "So, what happened last night girl? I want to hear all of it."

 _No you don't!_ "cried" (Y/N). _I don't trust you to not use it against me in the near future!_

Aya pouted. "Fine, you're no fun." Then she blinked. "Anyway, shouldn't you be working on more candles and shower bombs for today?"

(Y/N) jumped. _Crap! I forgot! See you later Aya!_ She then took off running before the other woman could stop her.

"See you dearie, and have fun!" Aya yelled after her.

Then, when (Y/N) finally arrived at her station, she began to curse at herself, and at Alfred.

 _How dare you make me forget!_ (Y/N) thought. _Oh, when I get my hands on you later, I'm going to make you plea for mercy!_

The blush on her face couldn't have felt more hot as the naughtiest things seeped into her mind again, especially the memories of last night. Did she really just...think that? Oh god, her husband was turning her into a dirty-minded girl.

She didn't know if she felt exhilarated or horrified with herself. But she supposed in didn't really matter.

Anyway, time to get to work on that earth bath bomb.

~~~

"What are you doing here?!" demanded Romano when he saw who was joining them. Dressed in casual clothing, which ranged from a white T-shirt, jeans, and blue sneakers with a jacket wrapped around his waist, America raised an eyebrow at his fellow nation's behavior.

"Going to lunch," he admitted. "And I happen to be going to the same location you all are going to."

"And how do we know that you won't try to murder us like you did with the others?" Romano asked sassily, ignoring the warning glances that Spain and Italy were sending his way.

America didn't look impressed when he answered. "Don't have a reason to," he replied. "Unless you're saying you want to give me a reason to?"

Romano blanched. "N-No."

"I didn't think so. Now, how about we hurry up and head over there? The lunch hour's approaching, and I don't know about you, but I'd rather not have to wait five minutes for us to be seated."

They were quick to get into America's car, which happened to not be the limousine, and the drive there was pretty quiet if you didn't count the music playing over the radio. To the nations' surprise, the music was a melodic dubstep remix, complete with piano and even violin here and there, and America was bobbing his head to the music, a content smile on his face.

They couldn't help comparing it to the smile they were so used to and this smile. Now that they thought about it, the former felt...fake, like it had been hiding this smile from them for a very long time.

What fools they were.

Eventually the restaurant, bakery, and beauty shop came into sight, and America was quick to find a parking place before he got out of the car, the others not too far behind him. They walked to the building's entrance, where they could see the various activities going on, both with the employees and the customers. They were fascinated, and planned on asking America if they could request some treats from the bakery afterwards.

"Ve, America?" Italy called.

"Hm?"

"Do you think that the restaurant makes any other foreign meals? I'm just wondering," Italy was quick to add, hoping he didn't offend the married man.

But America didn't look offended when he answered. "Well, the menu can change from time to time, or add some things, but that depends on what (Y/N) wants to try. She's okay with changing the menu once in awhile, and it's been awhile since I've eaten here, so maybe she has changed it, we'll need to see."

Italy nodded, and with that, they walked inside.

"Welcome!" greeted the waitress waiting at the cash register before them. "How can I help you gentlemen tod--Oh, Mr. Jones! I'm sorry, I didn't recognize you!"

"Calm down Gina, it's fine," America was quick to say, a soothing smile on his face. "Anyway, how are you doing today?"

"I'm doing good," she said. "How about you?"

"I'm wonderful. Now, is it alright if I can get a table for seven please?"

"Um..." Gina looked at her computer for a moment or two before nodding. "Of course, follow me please."

The men followed the waitress to a table near the kitchen, where they could smell the delicious aromas of the food being made. All six men with America were suddenly excited to find what this restaurant had to offer. Gina had them seated before she placed the menus before them.

"Alright gentlemen, Nathan will be your server for today," Gina announced. "He should be out shortly."

"Thanks Gina. Have a good day!" America replied with a smile, which Gina returned before she returned to her post by the register to greet the next set of customers coming in. Once she was gone, America picked up his menu, urging the others to do the same. "Find out what you're going to drink first boys, and yes, they do serve beer here Germany."

Germany immediately began looking at the drinks, and the others had just finished determining what they were going to drink when a young man with short brown hair, the matching eyes, and a friendly smile approached them.

"Nathan," greeted America with a smile. "How are you doing today?"

Nathan's smile widened when he saw America. "I'm doing great today Mr. Jones. I'm surprised that you're having lunch with us today."

"What can I say?" America replied, shrugging playfully. "My wife knows the right way to cook, and so do her chefs."

Nathan laughed. "So true. So, what can I get you gentlemen for drinks today?"

"Just water for me please," America replied, surprising the men with him. They had been expecting him to get a soda or whatever.

Nathan wrote down the order. "Alright, and you sir?"

Italy jumped. "U-Um, I would like some water too please."

"Me too," replied Romano.

"Alright, sir?"

"I wourd rike some iced tea, prease," Japan replied.

"I vould like some beer please," Germany chimed in, before adding, "...Your special beer please."

"And I'll just have water too please," finished Spain.

"Alright, I'll be right back." Nathan then walked away, and once he was out of sight, the men turned to America.

"What was that America ve?" asked Italy.

"What?"

"That question you asked the woman and Nathan. Why did you ask "How are you?""

America blinked, before mentally slapping himself in the forehead. "Oh, right, how could I have forgotten? Here, when people ask "How are you?", it's usually a greeting rather than a question of how you're doing. To be honest, the majority of us don't really care about how someone's doing, and that's what many foreigners don't research unfortunately."

"Seriously?" asked Romano, clearly offended. "That's just wrong!"

"It is what it is," America replied indifferently. "Sorry that you can't handle it Romano."

Romano didn't reply, and instead waited for Nathan to come back with their drinks and find out what they're going to order before he gets back too.


	27. Sinful Husband

Perfect.

(Y/N) smiled at the new row of bath bombs, candles, and shower bombs she and her employees have worked on, all ranging from blue, green, and white. All three colors blended perfectly to create a miniature Earth for the bath bombs, while the candles either ranged from those same colors and the shower bombs having half of what the bath bombs had.

(Y/N) was proud of her employees and of herself for creating such a masterpiece. Earth Day was coming up in a few months, but already these bath bombs, candles, and shower bombs had been highly requested besides the tropical bath bomb. The bath and shower bombs contained a variety of fresh and natural scents, from mango, goji berry, and black currant layered with sea salt, green grass, and fruit water, to even the hints of amber and sugared musk.

And as for the candles, depending on their color, they had the same natural scents as the bath and shower bombs, except they had a single scent. For the blue candles, they had the sea salt, freshwater, and even tropical berries; for the green candles, they had the scent of freshly cut grass and lime; and the white candles contained the smell of fresh cotton and fruit water with hints of daisy flowers.

(Y/N) smiled as one of her employees called out.

"Alright everyone, let's get these babies out."

Everyone quickly complied, and moved to get the bath/shower bombs and candles out and ready for sale for tomorrow. (Y/N) watched the entire thing with a smile, and even spotted a couple of her employees looking at the newly made candles and bath/shower bombs with itchy fingers, then she heard one of them say, "I am _so_ going to buy everything when I get off work."

(Y/N) doubted that would happen.

But this was nice, seeing her employees enjoying their job as much as she did.

And what do you know? Right in time for lunch.

Now, where was Alfred?

~~~

America resisted the urge to sneeze, and tried even harder to ignore the feeling of dread that accompanied it. Crap, how could he have forgotten something as simple as this?

(Y/N) was going to kill him when she finds him, and America knew that was going to be soon, especially with her lunchtime approaching.

As for the nations with him, they were eyeing the food they had just ordered with bug eyes, and it was so comical that America almost forgot his dread. Italy and Romano each ordered their own pasta, whilst Spain ordered a Spanish omelet, and Japan and Germany a prime rib. The reason for their surprise? The food actually looked delicious, so clearly they had been expecting the food America himself would usually eat whilst in their presence.

America didn't know whether to feel amused, insulted, or both.

As for America, he ordered some fries and his own medium-well steak, and the smell and sight of the food were already making his mouth water.

"Go on," America urged the others. "Eat! This food isn't going to eat itself."

That snapped his companions out of their stupors, and they began to eat, their faces contorting into those of bliss afterwards.

And suddenly America was thankful that he ordered a big plate, especially when he heard a familiar pair of footsteps heading his way.

Fuck.

America gulped and looked up into his wife's face nervously. (Y/N) was eyeing him with poorly concealed irritation, and she slowly signed to him.

_Hello Alfred._

"Uh, hi darling," America greeted back. "U-Um, would you like to share my plate?"

(Y/N)'s eyebrow twitched. _Why didn't you tell me that you would be eating here today?_ she demanded, her teeth clenched. _I thought something bad happened to you when I couldn't find you!_

America flinched. This time he was able to see the worry behind the anger of his wife's eyes, and he felt guilty. He looked down, ignoring the confused looks he was getting from his companions.

"I'm so sorry darling," he said. "I didn't mean to scare you like that. I just thought I'd accompany these six for lunch, and since I was heading this way, I thought I could greet you when your lunch arrived, but I forgot to meet with you. I'm sorry."

(Y/N)'s lips pursed, but at least she didn't seem angry anymore, at least, not a lot. She sighed in exhaustion and looked towards the nations, nodding to them before looking back at her husband silently.

Awkwardly, America presented his plate. "Would you like to share with me darling? I have plenty for the both of us."

(Y/N) eyed the plate, then her husband, and back again. Then she sighed and walked towards him, her face saying "scoot over", to which America complied. Sitting down beside her husband, she watched as America began to cut off half of his steak, grabbing the side plate that he didn't think of using before placing the steak on it, as well as a couple of fries, before giving it to his wife, who nodded her thanks.

America nodded with a smile, and inhaled. Oh wow...

(Y/N) smelled strongly of various kinds of scents, and America was able to smell fresh cotton, fresh grass, freshwater, and even different kinds of tropical berries. So natural and simple, America found himself leaning towards his wife and inhaling her hair's scent.

(Y/N) squeaked in embarrassment, and smacked America in the arm before pushing him away from her. America chuckled at his wife's embarrassment, especially when she signed to him,

 _Don't do that in front of them!_ She even pointed to their company for good measure, who were watching them with puzzlement and even embarrassment, but America didn't really care what they were thinking about.

"But you smell good darling," he said shamelessly to further his wife's embarrassment. "Aw, you're so cute when you blush."

With a small squeak of displeasure, (Y/N) smacked her husband's arm again. _Alfred! This isn't funny! Stop!_

America held up his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright, I'll stop, but remember darling, you owe me for tonight."

(Y/N)'s blush turned to an even deeper shade of red, and she ended up eating the half of her husband's meal in silence, refusing to look at anyone. This was fine with America, who continued to eat like nothing was wrong.

The nations blinked in surprise, before they flusteredly returned to their own meals, neither of them saying a word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you wish to see what the Earth bath bomb looks like, go to this link, https://www.fragrantjewels.com/products/earth-bath-bomb?utm_source=criteo)


	28. Sweet One

The rest of lunch went on without any other incident, and the nations had to admit that the food was good. Well, not good, but _phenomenal_. They had eaten every bite, and were disappointed when they found that it was all gone. America and his wife even finished their own meals, with the latter having forgiven America for his forgetfulness. After they finished their lunches, America then asked them if they wanted dessert.

They all had said no, but asked if they could request something from the bakery.

(Y/N)'s eyes had widened, and she quickly got up from the booth seat and went to the bakery, coming back with a notepad and paper, sat back down, and looked at them intently.

America interpreted her expression for them. "She wants to know what you want so she can get started on it."

Everyone jumped, embarrassed that they didn't see that sooner, and were quick to respond.

"C-Can we see what you already have, Miss (Y/N), ve?" asked Italy. "I heard your sweets here are really good on their own."

"So did I," replied Japan, smiling slightly. "I'm interested in trying a few of them."

(Y/N)'s eyes widened in surprise, but it was quickly replaced with an actual smile, which stunned the nations. But they didn't have time to ponder, because (Y/N) got up again and motioned for them to follow her.

Confused, they got up, paid for their meals after Nathan came back and greeted (Y/N), and followed her to the bakery section of the building. As soon as they entered, they were hit by the aromas of chocolate, vanilla, sugar, and other kinds of sweet scents that made their mouths water, despite their having already had lunch.

Italy was quick to look into the display case of the bakery, finding that the desserts inside them ranged between cookies, big and mini cakes, pastries, cheesecakes, fruit tarts, and even French macaroons. They all looked really good, but they didn't seem to have what he was looking for.

The others crowded in behind Italy, eyeing the desserts too. Clearly they were all impressed, but also found nothing that appealed to them. They felt America frown at this, and just when the nations were about to try to soothe his worries, a woman walked towards them.

"Hello," she greeted with a warm smile. "What can I get for you gentlemen?"

"Oh, ah..." Italy stammered a response, but then America stepped up.

"We're just looking Aya, thanks though." Italy never felt more thankful to hear America's voice.

The woman, Aya, jumped. "Oh, Mr. Jones! I wasn't expecting you here today!"

"Neither was (Y/N)," replied America with an easy-going smile. "Anyway, how are you doing Aya?"

"Very well, thank you," replied Aya. "Is there anything I can get for you today?"

"Hm," America looked at the treats inside the display case, and the nations could see the conflict going on within him as he contemplated what to buy, but then he shook himself out of it. "Actually, I was wondering if you're thinking of making something for these gentlemen here."

"Oh?" Aya turned to face the nations again. "Would you like to recommend something sirs?"

"Um..." Germany stumbled before he spoke up. "Do jou serve any German desserts here?"

"You're German?" she asked, her expression beaming with admiration, but then a shocked expression appeared on her face. "Forgive me, I've never met a native from Germany or any other country before. Anyway, what do you suggest sir?"

"Well..." Germany trailed off, embarrassed at not having a straight answer. Thankfully, America stepped up to save him again.

"You can give your suggestions to (Y/N), and she'll figure something out." He then smiled in pride. "My darling is a genius with this sort of thing, of that I can guarantee."

(Y/N) smacked her husband in the arm, her cheeks flushed. But then she turned to the others and signed.

America translated. "I don't have to work in the beauty shop today, so I usually head into the bakery at this time. I can work on your suggestions there."

They all looked at (Y/N) in shock. "A-Are you sure?" asked Japan. "You don't have to do this."

(Y/N) signed again.

"I know I don't, but I want to," translated America again. She then took out her notepad and pen again and handed it to the nearest nation, who happened to be Romano. "So, write down your suggestions, and I'll see what I can do."

After they all wrote down their suggestions, (Y/N) nodded in thanks to them before looking to her husband in confusion. America blinked back.

"What is it darling?" he asked. His wife then signed to him, and the nations watched as the man's eyes widened in surprise before a loving look replaced it.

"I'm not sure darling. I've never tried his desserts before, but I do know a few that he may like."

(Y/N) watched intently as America took the notepad from her hands and wrote down a couple things before giving it back to her. Then he placed a lingering kiss on her forehead, and this time she didn't pull back or physically scold him when he finally pulled away. Rather, she looked disappointed when it ended.

The Aya woman was quietly awwing at the sight, and, secretly, so were the nations.

Then an alarm rang, making everyone jump. America and (Y/N) were the quickest to recover, and the former smiled at the latter.

"Well, I'll let you get to it darling, see you when you get home." He placed another kiss on his wife's forehead, making her turn red before she dashed to the kitchen, clutching her notepad to her chest. They all watched her go, the nations with bewilderment, and America and Aya with smiles on their faces. Aya then turned to America.

"It was good seeing you Mr. Jones," she said warmly. "Hope to see you again soon, and have a good day."

"Thanks Aya, and you too. Tell your family that I said hello."

"I will. And you gentlemen have a wonderful day yourselves." After saying that, Aya then walked into the kitchen, waving goodbye to America. Once the kitchen doors closed, America proceeded to walk out the shop doors, with the nations quickly following him.

Once they were in the car, Romano turned to America. "What were you two talking about?"

"I don't follow you."

"You were talking about a "him" bastardo," Romano clarified irritably. "About making a dessert for him. Who is it?"

America raised an eyebrow as he started the car. "Don't sound like we're committing a crime Romano," he warned. "And besides, you already know who this "he" is, so you have no reason to be concerned."

"Ve~ We do?" asked a confused Italy.

America's eyebrow twitched. "Yes, you do."

The ride was silent after that.

~~~

By the time (Y/N) returned home, her arms were full of boxes, each containing a dessert.

America immediately went out to help his wife get the boxes inside, where he set them on the counter. Each of them was warm thanks to the freshness of the contents within them, and each one was labeled with the name of the dessert inside them and who they were to be given to. Not only that, but (Y/N) looked exhausted and ready to go to bed.

America smiled comfortingly at his wife. "Why don't you go to bed darling? I can take these to the nations if you want."

But (Y/N) shook her head, and moved to open up the boxes and take out the desserts and placing them on the table. Then, while she was doing this, America went to find Italy, Japan, Romano, Spain, Germany, and Russia. When he came back with them, the desserts had already been laid out, and there were spoons and forks near them.

The nations eyed the desserts with wide eyes, and America had to resist the urge to laugh. Did they really think his lovely wife wouldn't be able to cook one of their most famous dessert dishes? Well, she was full of surprises after all.

(Y/N) handed Italy and Romano their own desserts, which happened to be a tiramisu. The coffee cakes took up the middle of the small plate, and just the sight of it made the boys' mouths water, while it took every last bit of their self-control to not devour the cakes right then and there.

Then (Y/N) handed Germany his, which happened to be an original German crumb cake, and due to its size, Germany could have a piece at any time he wanted. Attached to the pan was a note: _I didn't know how much you wanted, so I decided to give you the whole pan. Hope that's okay._ The sight of the dessert and the note made Germany smile softly.

Spain was given a Spanish flan, which is a Spanish caramel custard. Unlike the other desserts (Y/N) made, this one was cool to the touch and took a long time to make. Spain smiled at the dessert, loving its perfect appearance and the apparent dedication that was put into it, and then sent his smile (Y/N)'s way.

Japan was given an entire crepe, which smelled amazing and looked delicious. Japan stared at the dessert with amazement, and, like Italy and Romano, was struggling to not devour the dessert on the spot. Near the crepe was a small bowl of nuts and a note: _I didn't know if you liked nuts or not, so I decided to add them to the side just in case._

Finally, (Y/N) approached Russia, handing the taller nation a ptichie moloko, or a birds' milk cake, which is a chocolate cake with French marshmallow. Russia looked shocked at the appearance of the dessert, and when (Y/N) handed it to him, looked at her in confusion.

"Why make this for me, da?" he asked.

(Y/N) signed, and America once again translated.

"You all respected our privacy, and I wanted to do something for you. Oh, and you don't need to pay for them, it's on the house."

All the nations eyes widened before they smiled and thanked (Y/N) for her kindness. With a nod of acknowledgment, (Y/N) signed something to America before she walked down the hall, the door to the master bathroom closing soon after, where they eventually heard the water running.

Spain looked at America. "You really are blessed to have a wife like her amigo."

America smiled. "I know, and I can't help but feel like the luckiest man alive."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The recipes for each dessert is here.
> 
> Italian desserts: https://www.huffingtonpost.com/Menuism/10-essential-italian-dess_b_7638432.html
> 
> German desserts: https://www.theomaway.com/authentic-german-dessert-recipes/
> 
> Spanish flan: http://www.cooktube.in/recipe/spanish-flan-spanish-caramel-custard/
> 
> Japanese desserts: https://gurunavi.com/en/japanfoodie/2016/08/japanese-desserts-sweets.html?__ngt__=TT0e0d8344c00aac1e4ae177n9zZVN7anXsKSx6HqAT-Cl
> 
> Russian desserts: https://www.rbth.com/articles/2012/08/27/top_12_russian_sweets_17701.html


	29. Lies

England hissed in pain as he moved. It was about 9 p.m., and the nations were heading off to bed, most of them eager for the day to be over and sleep off the soreness in their bodies, England himself being one of them. With each step he took, his body had to protest loudly, and he hissed again.

"Bloody hell..." he groaned. America really knew where and how hard to hit, and even how to humiliate his victims. Years of war and keeping secrets must've trained him well.

But it still bothered England, especially since his former colony beat them all up with a joyous grin on his face, like he was watching his favorite sports team win the game. It was something he never saw even during a war, and England never thought America of all people would have that characteristic.

Then again, it wasn't like he really knew his former charge.

England stopped when he was in front of the master bedroom, which was cracked open slightly. Inside, a gentle light bled through the crack, and shadows were dancing across the floor in response to their owners. Curious, England peaked through the door, spotting the room was lit up by red candles that smelled of apples and cinnamon. On the large bed located in the corner of the room, America lay, sleeping, his upper torso bare and the sheets covering up his lower torso. His glasses were also discarded on the nightstand next to him, making him look older than ever.

England was suddenly reminded of the time when America was still a colony, an innocent, cheerful boy who always eagerly awaited his return. Nowhere did he find that boy in this man, this man who was married, who was so unlike his little boy, and who grew up into this behind his back, all while he was too blind to look closer.

England always prided himself on being intelligent and observant, and while that has been the case half the time, he never saw this, not even a hint. He didn't know if it was because of his own pride or America was that good of an actor.

Either way, what's happening now was obvious; he had been an idiot, the biggest idiot known to man, and there was no excuse to counter that.

Movement came from the other side of the room, and England peaked that way to see (Y/N), her hair damp and her clothes discarded for a nightgown, brushing her teeth. A serene look of concentration was on her face, and she was making rhythmic movements with her hands that England found odd as she finished brushing and washed her mouth before placing a retainer in despite her teeth being perfect in American standards.

She then walked over to the candles, blowing them out before she moved to join her husband in bed. Before joining him however, she stopped and looked at America, a look of reluctance on her face. England's brow furrowed, and he watched as his former colony's wife began to fidget uncomfortably before she seemed to mentally slap herself and walked over to her husband's side.

Then, seeming to brace herself, she placed a kiss on America's forehead.

Her lips lingered there for a moment before she slowly pulled away, a soft smile on her face before she walked over to her side of the bed, and after climbing under the covers, blew out the last candle before joining her husband in slumber.

England walked away after seeing that, gently closing the door behind him. He knew he didn't imagine it; the smile that appeared on America's face when his wife's lips touched him, the serene expression. He had never seen that on America as a boy, not even close.

Had he been lied to all this time? Had everything he knew about America before the Revolution been a lie?

England was scared to find out, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to try.


	30. Foreshadow

Husband and wife were up around 6 once more, and were in the kitchen getting started on breakfast. Since it was a Friday, they made blueberry croissants, as well as spiced scrambled eggs and fluffy pancakes.

When they were finally done, (Y/N) looked tired at all the cooking they did, and America knew it was because she never cooked at home for complete strangers on the times when she was at home. Still, (Y/N) didn't have a problem with all this, and was quite proud of herself when she and America finally finished the food.

And when they got to the dining table, the nations were waiting for them, most of them wincing at the pain in their bodies.

America resisted the urge to snort.

But by the time the food and drinks were served, everyone busied themselves with eating and finishing everything that was served to them. Some of the nations had a hard time even getting their forks, spoons, or cups to their mouths, and from how strained their muscles were, America could see how badly their hands were shaking.

He continued eating without caring.

Then, all of a sudden, Italy broke the silence. "I really loved the tiramisu last night Miss (Y/N)!" he chirped. "It was really delicious."

"S-Si, mine was as well," added Romano.

"The cake you made me was also very good sunflower," chimed in Russia, his smile kind and grateful.

"Mine vas as well," said Germany.

"I think you rearry did a wonderfur job on the crepe," said Japan.

"I loved the pudding," finished Spain.

Many of the other nations stared at them, wondering if they lost their minds, but no one paid them any attention. (Y/N)'s eyes were wide with surprise, her mouth partly open with an adorable blush appearing on her cheeks. Then she smiled brightly, signing a _Thank you_ as well as a _I'm glad you liked them._

"But is it alright if I make a couple suggestions Miss (Y/N), ve?"

"Hm?" (Y/N) looked at Italy, waiting for him to speak.

"Well, I think you could've added a little less sugar. It was a little too sweet at times." Italy looked nervous as he spoke.

(Y/N) thought for a moment, before she smiled slightly and nodded, signing that she'll keep his words in mind.

After Italy spoke up, the others developed the courage to make suggestions of their own, with (Y/N) taking note of them for later. America had to keep himself from snorting in amusement when he saw his wife writing on a notepad under the table. He remembered the first time he saw her do that, and he hadn't known whether to be impressed, amused, or even both.

Still, it never got old.

So, once everyone was finished with their breakfast, (Y/N) got up and walked towards the bedroom to get ready for work while America got started on washing the dishes like he did every Friday after breakfast. The nations also left the room to do their own thing, and for the first time since the nations had to stay with them, America was left in peace.

Still, it would be another couple days before they would have to go to France, and America was not looking forward to the trip for many reason, his wife being one of them.

He couldn't blame her though, for the scent of planes did smell strange every time you entered a new one, and the common airplanes were even cramped with all the people. However, the scent of the planes always got (Y/N), and would give her stomach cramps and headaches for a week after that.

America quickly made a note to get (Y/N) one of those sedatives that helps one deal with flights.

He had finished half of the dishes when (Y/N) entered, dressed in her work clothes, and ready to go. America smiled at her and went to her side, placing a quick kiss on her forehead, after which she gave him a hug.

After pulling away, she smiled up at him, waved, and walked out of the house, the sound of the car turning on and pulling out of the driveway following shortly after. Smiling, America continued to wash the dishes, but soon frowned.

Why did he get the feeling today was not going to be a good day?


	31. Drama at Work

By the time she got to work, the place was already open and running, and (Y/N) parked in her usual parking space before walking into the "Employee's Only" area and headed to the restaurant portion of the shop, where she helps the cooks cook or aids them in other things that needed to be done.

"Morning Boss!" greeted Danny, the head chef, and who had been working the shop for about three years. He was the widowed father of a deaf little girl, so he knew sign language quite well and could use it fluently to communicate with (Y/N), and he had needed a job to support himself and his daughter, which led him to finding work here.

(Y/N) wanted to help him personally with making sure he lived well enough and was giving his daughter a stable life, but had to keep things fair with her employees. However, the pay was great here, so Danny never complained about it, in fact he seemed happy with it, which (Y/N) hoped was the case.

(Y/N) signed. _Good morning Danny. How are things going?_

Danny smiled big. "Going well over here! In fact, we've had a lot of happy customers leave here and even more enter, eager to try our food. You know, I'm surprised this spot isn't very popular anywhere else Boss, have you considered opening another shop in other towns?"

(Y/N) winced at the idea. _No, but is it alright if I be honest with you?_

"Go ahead."

_I don't trust myself to have someone else running my shops._

Danny stared at her for a moment before he began to snort, doing a poor job at concealing his laughter.

(Y/N) tensed. _Don't you dare._

Danny burst out laughing, banging his hand against the counter next to him and startling the chefs nearby, but after seeing with the commotion was about, they shrugged and returned to work. Meanwhile, unable to fight off how contagious her employee's laugh was, (Y/N) burst out laughing as well, laughing so hard that tears were pooling in her eyes and she found herself unable to breathe properly.

Eventually, both she and Danny calmed down enough for her to ask, _How was that funny?!_

Danny took some deep breaths. "I-I'm sorry Boss, I just couldn't help it with how serious you looked. You really looked like my daughter when she's trying to be serious, and I couldn't help myself."

(Y/N) blushed in embarrassment. _Come on Danny, I'm not that cute._

"I beg to differ Boss. Just ask your husband, he always looks at you with such adoration whenever you make those faces."

Her blush darkened. _J-Just get back to work you hooligan!_ she ordered.

Danny saluted. "Aye aye captain!"

Shaking her head at the man's behavior, (Y/N) went to work with checking how the other chefs were doing, and she was pleased to see that they were able to keep up with the rush of the upcoming lunch hour, though a few of them forgot to add some ingredients while they were cooking, which she was quick to point out before moving on.

(Y/N) wasn't an idiot though; everyone (especially the chefs) is human, and it was inevitable that they would make mistakes from time to time, her included, and even the most responsible and experienced of chefs can forget things from time to time. For that reason, (Y/N) was able to let these slide, as these chefs were really good at following directions to the detail all in all.

After making sure the chefs were doing what they were supposed to, (Y/N) was about to head to the refrigerator to find what supplies they would need for next time when Nathan walked into the kitchen, a frown on his face.

Danny approached him. "What's wrong bud?" He then looked down at the plate in the younger boy's hand, still full of food, and he frowned himself.

"A customer at table four complained the meat was not medium rare like she wanted," Nathan replied.

Danny was silent a moment. Then he held out a hand for the plate and looked at the meat before sighing in disbelief.

"This is medium rare," he commented.

(Y/N) was by the men's side in an instant, stealing a look at the meat herself, and found that Danny was speaking the truth. The red of the meat screamed medium rare, and it smelled medium rare too. She looked up at Danny, who looked back at her with what she thought was a serious expression before looking back at Nathan.

"Let me come with you," he said. "I'd like to have a word with this customer."

Nathan stared at Danny before slowly nodding. "Of course."

Without another word, both men were out of the kitchen, leaving (Y/N) standing there with concern and confusion. What did this mean? Why would a customer return food that had been properly cooked and seasoned? Unless...

She hissed to herself; This customer was here to cause trouble and waste good food for their own amusement.

This was intolerable. Those kinds of people always came through her restaurant, thinking as if they owned the place and could do whatever they wanted, completely ignoring the rules of the building altogether. They were so arrogant and selfish that they were the sole reason why the building had a certain room for (Y/N) to go to as soon as it was over, and now, she had a feeling she was going to need it, and badly.

(Y/N) suddenly hoped that Nathan and Danny would kick that ungrateful person out of her restaurant before thing escalated.

There was a crash outside the kitchen, making everyone jump in surprise. Then came the yelling.

"Where's your boss?!" screeched a female voice, so painful to (Y/N)'s ears. "I want to see your boss!"

"Ma'am, you are disturbing the other customers," said Danny, voice calm yet dangerously low. "If you fail to comply, you will be removed from the premises."

"I'm not leaving until I see your boss!" protested the woman.

"She's not available at this time," said Danny. "Now, please leave."

"No!"

The chefs looked at (Y/N), who was now wishing that the earth would crack open and swallow her whole.

Why now of all times?

Why did these people even exist?

It was way too early for this!

Someone touched her shoulder, startling (Y/N) from her thoughts, and she looked at one of the younger chefs, Amy, who had a hand on her shoulder.

"The woman's not going to leave unless you show up Mrs. Jones, so you might as well get it over with," she said.

Get it over with? (Y/N) could practically feel herself shaking at the thought of even talking to that woman while she was in that mood. There was a reason she avoided talking to the customers whenever she could, and this was one of the reasons.

Still, she didn't want to scare the other customers off from this, and the woman did say that she would not leave until she did something about this.

 _Okay, calm down (Y/N),_ she urged herself. Take deep breaths. _It's going to be fine, you're just overreacting. Just go out there and get this over with._

So, after taking a few deep breaths, (Y/N) walked out of the kitchen and into the restaurant.

As expected, it was crazy outside. Customers were staring at the commotion before them with what appeared to be concern and discomfort, and Danny and Nathan were trying to calm a woman with dark brown hair, green eyes, and peach skin, and who was wearing a very inappropriate outfit that showed off her breasts, her midriff, and her butt.

(Y/N) found herself clicking in distaste at the woman's sense in fashion. She looked like she was screaming, "I'm over here, come rape me!"

(Y/N) approached Danny and Nathan. _What's going on here boys?_ she asked.

Both men jumped.

"O-Oh, Mrs. Jones!" said a surprised Nathan before smiling. "Don't worry, we have everything under contro--"

"Are you the boss?" interrupted the woman.

(Y/N) clenched her fist behind her back before signing. _I am._

"Huh, are you deaf or something?" asked the woman rudely. "I asked you if you were the boss!"

"She said she is," answered Danny, moving towards (Y/N)'s side.

"What?!" The woman stared at (Y/N), and (Y/N) didn't have to be a genius to know that the other woman was staring at her like she had been told a cockroach was the boss. "Are you fucking serious?! This woman is your boss?!"

"Watch your language ma'am," warned Nathan.

"Fucking try me!" hissed the woman before she turned to (Y/N). "Hope you're smart Honey, 'cause I'm in no mood for idiotic people who don't know how to talk. I asked for a medium rare steak, and this is what I get?!" She pointed to the steak in Nathan's hand. "I thought this was supposed to be a five-star restaurant."

 _It is medium rare Miss,_ signed (Y/N), with Danny translating. _You're being unreasonable here._

"Unreasonable?" repeated the woman. "Unreasonable?! Oh I'll show you unreasonable you bitch!"

And with that, she snatched the plate from Nathan, stormed over to (Y/N), and raised it over her head, a scream of fury flying past her lips.

(Y/N) barely heard the alarmed cries of the other restaurant patrons or of Danny and Nathan as she stared with wide eyes at the woman charging at her, feeling like she was watching in slow motion, unable to do anything.

Immediately, she snapped her eyes shut, waiting for the pain to come, but instead, she only heard a crash, then the sound of something plopping on the ground. (Y/N) chose that moment to open her eyes, and she could only quietly gasp at the sight before her.

Danny was standing in front of her, and he was covered in meat juice, mashed potatoes, and the dipping sauce. On the floor in front of him was the now broken plate with the food scattered about, and the woman was seething up at Danny with clear hatred, angered that he had denied her satisfaction.

At that point (Y/N) felt anger replace her shock. How dare this woman attack one of her employees when he had done nothing to provoke her anger.

Deathly calm, she signed again, with Nathan once more translating.

 _Ma'am,_ she began. _This is your last warning. Leave, or the police will be called._

The woman spat at her. "Fuck you bitch."

Seeing this, (Y/N) signed to Nathan. _Call the police._

Nathan nodded and slowly walked away towards the front desk to grab the phone, calmly dialing the emergency service number.

The woman, seeing this, attempted to leap on (Y/N), but Danny held her back. "YOU BITCH!" she screamed. "YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS! YOU WON'T GET AWAY WITH THIS!"

 _I already have,_ "said" (Y/N), this time with Danny translating. _What you fail to understand dear is that you're at a disadvantage here. You attacked me when I just told you the truth, disturbed the other customers, ruined perfectly good food, and are threatening me in the presence of those very employees and customers. I don't know how old you are, but from what I'm seeing, you should be sent back to preschool sweetheart._

"DAMN YOU!"

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, turning to Danny this time. _Can you hold her until the police arrive?_

Danny smirked. "Perfectly."

(Y/N) nodded before turning to the customers. _I'm so sorry that you had to see this everyone. The problem is under control now, but please bear with us until the police arrive and take the woman away. Again, I'm sorry that you had to see this._

She didn't wait to see the customers' replies as she turned to see Amy head over to where Danny and the woman were struggling and cleaned up the mess as best she could before having a clean towel and water ready for Danny.

(Y/N) smiled. Amy was such a good girl, making sure that everyone was taking care of.

Then she heard the sirens, and sighed.

This was going to take awhile. Alfred was not going to be happy when he hears about this.

Oh well. It couldn't be helped. (Y/N) was just happy that she didn't have a meltdown, but she was going to have to go to her comfort room to calm down after this.


	32. Protection

America had been in the midst of cooking lunch when the phone rang. As the phone was directly next to the stove, America simply looked at it, not expecting to see anything as he continued to cook.

That was until he saw the caller ID.

Immediately turning off the stove, America placed the food aside and reached for the phone, pressing the caller button before placing it against his ear.

"Hello?"

 _"Mr. Jones?"_ A familiar female voice came over the phone.

"Aya?" asked America. "What's going on? Is something—"

 _"No, no, nothing's wrong Mr. Jones,"_ said Aya reassuringly. _"It's just we had a customer that was causing a scene here with the restaurant staff."_

America almost let himself feel relief. "Then why are you calling me?"

_"(Y/N) had attempted to speak to the customer and get her to leave, but she attacked her."_

"What?!" If he had been holding something, America knew he would've dropped it.

_"She only hit Danny, and Nathan managed to call the police while he held her back. (Y/N) handled the situation well, answered all questions, and the woman was taken away on the charges of attempted aggravated assault, disrupting the peace, and disruption of property."_

There was a pause on the other end. "And?" presses America.

 _"Well..."_ Aya sighed. _"After the police left, (Y/N) immediately isolated herself in her sensory deprivation room, and she hasn't come out since. I don't think she's doing too well though if her yelling was anything to go by."_

America understood immediately what Aya was implying. If his wife was in _that_ mood, then the probability of getting her out of that room would be a miracle in itself and would take a patient amount of coaxing from a family member to get her out.

Which meant one thing.

"Do you want me to come over?" he asked.

 _"Please,"_ replies Aya. _"She's already been in there for hours at a time, and I'm really worried that she's not going to want to come out of there."_

America nodded, even though Aya couldn't see it. "I'll be right there," he said. "I just need to finish up what I'm cooking first."

Aya gasped _"O-Oh dear, I didn't call at a bad time did I?"_

"Calm down Aya," urged America. "I'll be over there as soon as I can, and in the meantime, can you try to get (Y/N) from hurting herself?"

_"I'll try."_

"Thank you. Bye Aya."

_"Bye Mr. Jones."_

As soon as he ended the call and placed the phone back on the receiver, America slammed a fist against the table, though not strong enough to leave behind a crack.

"You idiot!" he hissed. "Why didn't you call me about this beforehand? Why do you always have to try to be so damn prideful?!"

America pinched the bridge of his nose and took many deep breaths until he was calm enough to think rationally. He knew (Y/N) was a grown woman, and she was expected to take care of herself and her business since she was the boss, but she wasn't the kind of person who could deal with bad customers. She was, after all, too empathetic at times, which can cause her to feel threatened if she was dealing with a bad customer.

And, more often than not, it has led to meltdowns that could get so bad that (Y/N) could probably stay in her sensory deprivation room for the rest of the day.

America needed to finish up so he can head over there.

But first, after that, he was going to have to get the nations off his back before he did.


	33. A Match Made in Heaven

A knock came to the door. "(Y/N)?" It was Aya. "Are you alright?"

(Y/N) didn't answer. She doubted she needed to anyway. She had stopped yelling now, as her throat was hurting too much and she was too tired to continue with it, and now she was fingering the light string that changed color every four seconds while sitting on the nearest beanbag chair. She watched with a calming awe as the end of the strings changed from red to pink, then pink to purple, then purple to blue, then blue to green, and so on.

This room had been specially made for her, and at the moment it was dimly lit, but it illuminated enough for anyone to see inside it. It contained many things that could help calm (Y/N) during a meltdown, such as a beanbag chair, a swing with a square seating that she could lay down on if she wanted to, a punching bag, matted floors, and the very string lights that she was playing with right now.

When she didn't answer, (Y/N) heard a hand touch the doorknob. "(Y/N), I'm coming in, okay?"

(Y/N) didn't move when Aya opened the door and closed it behind her, bringing in the light from outside temporarily before the latter happened. Once she closed it, Aya turned to look at her, saying nothing for many moments, though (Y/N) was too busy admiring the color-changing lights to look at her.

Aya walked over to her, kneeling in front of her. "Are you okay?" she whispered.

(Y/N) shook her head, still looking at the lights.

Aya nodded, clearly expecting that answer. "I don't blame you. Rude customers are always so exhausting to deal with," she said. "That woman didn't have any right to blame you for anything, or the others."

(Y/N) held up a hand. _And Danny?_ she asked.

"Hm?"

 _Is he alright?_ By now (Y/N) was looking up at Aya.

Aya looked at her a moment before nodding. "He's fine," she began. "He doesn't have any cuts or bruises when we checked him, though he is going to have to take a long and hot shower to get all that food out of his hair and probably wear a different uniform until that one is washed."

(Y/N) nodded. _And he's not...angry with me?_ she asked.

Aya blinked. "Why would he? You didn't do anything."

 _But that's just it._ By now (Y/N) got up and walked towards the swing, sitting down on it and lightly swinging it. _I didn't even do anything to help him when that woman was making those false accusations. I just stood there like a fool, in front of a room full of customers, and he took the hit for me. He shouldn't have._

(Y/N) began to swing, too tired to even feel angry with herself. Aya kept a respectful distance from her as she swung, but she smiled at her.

"It wasn't your fault (Y/N), now hold on"--Aya held up a hand to stop whatever (Y/N) had been about to "say"--"while I will say that Danny defended you because you are his boss, he did it because he clearly cares for you. Besides, you were doing the right thing at the time; we aren't supposed to get physical with customers unless it's in self-defense, and you were trying to handle it calmly and like an adult. There's nothing wrong with that."

(Y/N) said nothing as she continued to swing, but she continued to listen.

"It's hard for you, I know, since those kinds of people always make you feel threatened and angry yourself at times," Aya continued, her voice patient and accepting, "but I think you handled it like anyone running a business should. Now, I know you're also embarrassed that it happened in front of room of people, customers no less, but from what they saw of you, I could say their respect for you increased, including the regulars."

(Y/N) stopped swinging and looked at Aya. _You really think so?_ she asked.

Aya smiled. "Of course." They stayed silent for a few more minutes before Aya stood up. "I called Alfred too, he should be over here shortly."

(Y/N) deflated. _He must be irritated right now,_ she commented.

"Hm? Why do you say that?"

(Y/N) chuckled weakly. _Come on Aya you know how my husband is when things like this happen,_ she said. _He can be so protective of me when things like this happen, even though he understands that things like this are out of his control, as they are mine. Still, he doesn't like not being in control, in fact he hates it. Though, I hate that too, so I can't exactly fault him for that._

Aya stared at her a moment, then giggled behind her hand. "Yes, you two are like two peas in a pod. Sometimes I really can't help but feel you two were made for each other."

(Y/N) smirked at her. _I could say the same for you and Thomas, Aya_ , she said. _After all, you enjoy looking after someone while Thomas enjoys helping you behind the scenes. You can't tell me that wasn't a match made in Heaven._

Even in the dim light, (Y/N) could see Aya's face flush red, who then chuckled weakly.

"You got me there (Y/N)," she said. Just then another knock came at the door, and both women looked at it.

"Yes?" called Aya.

The door then opened, and Amy peaked her head in. "Um, I'm sorry to bother you Mrs. Jones, Aya, but Mr. Jones is here," she announced.

Aya looked to (Y/N), who nodded, and Aya looked back to Amy. "Bring him in please. He'll already know where we are."

Amy pouted at her. "I already knew that." She then moved her head out of the doorway and closed the door after her.

Both women stared at the door for a moment longer, then at each other, before they burst out laughing.

Oh Amy. She could be such a goofball sometimes.


	34. Safety

Thankfully, the nations had been sated enough for them to not ask any questions when he finally left the house.

Still, it had been irritating setting up lunch, and America had not been in the mood to answer any questions they may have had regardless, for as soon as he set the table and had the food ready, he had zoomed out of the house without any explanation and into his car, driving all the way to (Y/N)'s workplace as quickly as the speed limit would let him.

When he finally arrived, nothing appeared out of place, but America had quickly taken note of the tense atmosphere of the building. In fact, the customers that were coming out of the building looked on edge and were talking amongst themselves, and when America got out of the car, he heard their conversations.

"Did you hear what happened earlier?"

"Heard what?"

"You know, the customer that came in and nearly struck the boss."

There was a gasp. "No way, seriously?"

"Yeah, it got so bad that the police had to be called!"

"Isn't the boss developmentally...what do you call it again?"

"Autistic?" There was a pause, then the person continued. "Yeah, the boss is challenged mentally, but you have to admit, that was brave of her to do what she did even though it must've been scary for her."

The reply was hesitant. "Yeah."

America was inside the building, therefore he didn't hear the rest of the conversation, but he didn't need to. He had heard enough from all sides, and right now he only wanted to find (Y/N).

Once more, the scent of all kinds of things greeted his nose, but despite the pleasantness of it, America wasn't elated like he normally would be, and instead moved his eyes to look upon a familiar-looking boy.

Nathan looked up, opening his mouth to say his normal greetings until he saw him, then a tired smile appeared. "Hello Mr. Jones," he greeted.

America smiled back. "Hello Nathan, is (Y/N) still in her room?"

Nathan nodded. "Yes." He then turned to Amy and told her to inform (Y/N) of her husband's arrival, which she did without any hesitation before Nathan turned back to the other man. "I know Aya probably already told you this, but (Y/N)'s been in there for hours."

America nodded. "I know," he said. "It wasn't fun for any of you, was it?"

Nathan chuckled bitterly while shaking his head. "Mrs. Jones had it the worst though," he said. "Danny and I tried to prevent her from checking out the problem, but she came out anyway."

America nodded. "My wife can be so stubborn sometimes," he said.

"You're telling me." Nathan ran a hand through his hair. "Though, normally Mrs. Jones is not the kind of person to immediately do something like this, so I'm guessing she either forced herself to do this or someone persuaded her, I'm guessing Amy since she too doesn't like conflict in the facility."

That was understandable, but then again no one who worked in this building liked conflict anyway. Still, Amy must've understood how terrifying dealing with a bad customer would be for (Y/N), who again was too empathetic for her own good, especially when it concerned negative emotions. She couldn't stay calm in those situations unless she knew the situation was under control, and America knew it had not.

America mentally shook his head as Amy came back. "(Y/N) is in there still," she announced. "Aya's in there with her just so you know, but you're welcome to go in there now."

America had to keep in a snort of amusement. "Thank you Amy." He then moved to walk past her, not sparing her a glance as he walked towards his wife's office, and also sparing quick greetings to the other workers in the building before he finally arrived.

The office was a small room, with its walls a calming blue color, the floors covered with a soft carpet, and the desk at the other side of the room that was neatly arranged, with the paperwork set off to one side, pens and pencils neatly arranged on a stand, a lamp next to it, and a couple pictures that America knew were of him and (Y/N) and (Y/N) with her family respectively.

And in the farthest corner of the room contained a door that was made of dark brown wood and was partly open.

America walked towards it, rapping his knuckles twice on the door before announcing, "(Y/N), it's me, can I come in?"

There was a pause on the other side, and then the door opened, revealing Aya.

She smiled at him. "Hello Mr. Jones," she greeted.

"Hello Aya." America then peaked over Aya's shoulder, where he spotted his wife swinging lightly on the swing located in the middle of the room.

(Y/N) wasn't looking at him, but she did look up briefly when she felt her husband's eyes on her, staring right at his nose. She smiled slightly, a nervous smile despite the dimly lit room, and then looked away.

Aya spoke up. "She's calmer now, but I think it would be a good idea to take her home for the rest of the day," she said.

America nodded. "I know." He then excused himself past Aya to walk even further into the sensory deprivation room to stop in front of his wife, causing her to stop swinging. (Y/N) looked up at him again, keeping her eyes on his face longer than last time.

He knelt before her. "Are you alright darling?" he asked.

(Y/N) shrugged before signing, _Tired._

He nodded again in understanding. "Can't blame you after what happened today," he said. "Aya wants me to take you home, to take a vacation while she looks after the shop for you. Did she tell you that?"

(Y/N) nodded, a frown on her face.

"But you didn't agree with it."

(Y/N) shook her head. _It's just..._ She mutely sighed. _Aya already has enough things to do, I can't just ask her to add more things to her workload._

America slowly reached over and took his wife's hand. "She really cares for you (Y/N), and even she knows that you deserve a break from all the shit that happened today. Besides, you were going to take a break anyway, and someone was going to have to look after the shop in your stead while you came with me on a business trip. Also, she said that this could help give you new ideas of what to serve in the shop when you come back."

(Y/N) slowly nodded, though she still didn't appear convinced.

America chuckled briefly before he pulled (Y/N) into his embrace, causing her to squeak out in surprise. "Now wipe that frown from your face darling, you look like a granny when you have that face."

(Y/N) snapped her head up at that, and now an irritated expression replaced the tired look. She pouted up at him too as she signed, _I do not look like a granny!_

"Uh-huh," said America with an eye-roll, of which he received a smack upside the head. "Of come on, you know I'm teasing you right?"

(Y/N) continued to pout up at him in irritation.

But then a chuckle made them turn around, and America could feel his wife's hot cheeks as they realized that Aya was still in the room.

"You two are so cute you know that?" she asked, before turning to (Y/N). "Still, you should at least go home and get some rest hun. And true, I may be old, but I can still hold up my own just fine, even without support. But if it makes you feel any better, you can take some paperwork with you and work on it while you're away. It can make my job much easier."

(Y/N)'s eyes widened, and she slapped herself in the forehead, groaning to herself.

Both America and Aya winced at this, but America just smiled and gently brought (Y/N)'s hand from her forehead.

"Come on darling," he gently urged. "I'll make you your favorite when we get home, how's that sound?"

(Y/N)'s eyes widened again before softening and she nodded, allowing her husband to gently lead her from the swing and out of the room, with Aya closing the door behind them.

"Good luck (Y/N)," she called after them as they left the office to get (Y/N) clocked out before going home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I got everything moved here, so any new updates will be things that will posted on both Wattpad and here on the same day (and Tumblr once I get everything situated).


	35. Control

The ride back home was quiet, and America made a note to head back after dropping (Y/N) off at home to pick up her car. After all, she never liked it when she had to leave something behind after work, or she would only go back and get it.

But now, she just wanted to spend the rest of the day alone, and America can understand that.

While driving, he glanced at (Y/N), finding her staring out the window, unseeing, a clear sign that she was tired, and she was leaning her head against the window too. He frowned slightly.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

(Y/N) glanced over at him a moment, before mutely shaking her head.

“Do you...want to talk about it?” he asked then.

Tiredly, (Y/N) held up a hand. _Not...right now, please._

America nodded. “Well, when you ready to talk about it, just let me know.”

(Y/N) tiredly nodded and went back to staring out the window.

When the house came into sight, America turned off the car and got out, moving to the other side to help (Y/N) out before ushering her inside. When he came inside, she was walking towards their bedroom, closing the door behind her, and where he faintly heard the sounds of sheets rustling.

A good idea to take a nap, especially what happened today.

America knew that (Y/N) couldn’t really understand how he could get through the day after something happened between him and someone else, and wanted to chalk it up as experience, which was mostly true. As he walked to the kitchen to get started on cooking, America also supposed that it was because he was born knowing how to talk to people, how to deal with those who were not in their right state of mind.

He wasn’t as empathetic as his wife, it was that simple, as much as he hated to admit it.

While getting out the pots and pans, America heard footsteps heading towards the room.

“Amerika-san?”

America looked up, seeing Japan looking at him with confused concern. “Is everything arright?” he asked.

America stood up, sighing mutely. “Don’t worry about that Japan,” he said. “It’s not something you need to be concerned about.”

Japan’s lips pursed. “Your wife came home earry,” he said. “Not to mention she rooked very tired, and not just physicarry.”

God damn it Japan.

America turned away, once again sighing mutely. “(Y/N) didn’t have a good day, and I was called to bring her home.”

He felt Japan’s confusion return. “What happened?” he asked.

“Bad customer,” said America, his tone telling Japan to drop the subject.

Thankfully, Japan got the hint. “What are you making for runch then?” he asked.

America smiled. “I’m making some bagel rolls, they’re one of (Y/N)’s favorites.”

“Bager rorrs?”

“They’re almost like a pizza,” America explained. “Though, instead of using actual pizza dough, you just cut up a bagel, put some tomato sauce on them, add some cheese and even some of the items you would see on other pizzas if you want, and then put them in the oven for several minutes.”

Japan was silent a moment. “I...see,” he said. “I suppose this wirr taste good.”

America rolled his eyes, but said nothing else.

He supposed that Japan never really heard of bagel rolls, or the ones he did try didn’t exactly suit his tastes. America supposed it was the latter, since Japan was known to be a picky eater at times, almost as bad as the other nations, though he considered himself lucky that he wasn’t as bad as (Y/N) when it came to food, as whenever the situation called for it, Japan could eat anything, just like the others, even him.

America remembered a certain point in the past, when he and (Y/N) were getting to know each other, and someone (a.k.a her ex-friend) thought it would be a good idea to have (Y/N) eat a soup that was popular in her area.

Now, they had been at a restaurant, and America knew that while (Y/N) was starving, she had stared at the soup like it was poison, and refused to pick up the spoon inside the bowl.

America had offered to eat the soup for her since it wasn’t to her taste (after all there was no point in wasting food), but (Y/N)’s friend was not having it. She had grabbed the spoon, scooped up some of the thick broth, and held it to (Y/N)’s mouth.

The smell alone seemed to trigger the gag reflex in (Y/N), for her face started to turn a sickly shade of green.

Before America could order the girl to back off, she had forced the spoon into (Y/N)’s mouth.

As soon as the spoon touched her tongue, (Y/N) had gagged, immediately spitting the soup onto her friend and coughing, gagging over and over until she was sure that she wasn’t going to throw up. She then swiped up her water and drank until she was satisfied the taste was gone and more than half of the cup was empty. All the while, her friend had screamed in surprise and horror had what had happened, and America will never forget the look of utter disgust on her face as she glared at (Y/N).

_“Look what you did you bitch!” she hissed, moving to hit her. “You ruined my shirt!”_

America had reacted before she could land the hit on the cowering (Y/N), glaring at her with his own form of disgust and anger, and making sure to squeeze her wrist until he heard the bones creaking.

The woman had flinched, demanding he release her, that he was hurting her.

Hearing her words only fueled America’s anger.

_“I’m hurting you?” he had repeated, his voice dangerously low. “I’m not the one who attempted to hit her friend just because she ruined a shirt. You tried forcing her to do something that she didn’t want to do, and you’re worried about your fucking shirt?”_

_“But she’s a freak!” the girl protested. “She’s nothing but a vermin!”_

_“The only vermin I see here is you,” growled America, once more squeezing her wrist until the bones were threatening to break, causing her to cry out in pain. “And in my opinion, you don’t deserve to be anywhere near her if you treat her like this, and over something that she did not ask for either!”_

Without waiting for a reply, he had roughly grabbed the bitch by her hair and dragged her to the entrance of the restaurant, ignoring her cries of pain, and ignoring the other patrons and the employees, he threw her out the door, narrowly missing having her run through the window and into the street.

He ended up having to deal with the police after that, though he had been acquitted after a video of him defending (Y/N) was given to them. Though he did get some ugly looks after that, none of which he cared about.

They meant nothing to him, not as much as (Y/N)’s grateful expression, especially when he offered to eat the rest of the soup and ordered what she really wanted.

Still, it made America wonder what she even saw in that woman to even allow her to be her friend.

America snorted to himself as he placed the bagel rolls into the oven and put in the right time to let them cook. It didn’t matter now, especially now that they were married and (Y/N) became more careful about who she associated herself with.

Still...America hated how he couldn’t help her with everything.

He was supposed to be a fucking nation, and yet he found himself unable to keep a close eye on his own wife at the times when she desperately needed it.

He hated it, so very much.


	36. The Past

(Y/N) woke up from her nap three hours later.

The mental exhaustion was gone, which was relieving, though she stayed in bed for a little longer to regain her bearings. Lifting her hand, she traced the nightstand on her side for her phone, soon grabbing it and turning it on to look at the time.

12:14 p.m., huh?

She would’ve been getting ready for her lunch break by now at work.

A bubble of irritation went through her before (Y/N) buried her face into the pillow, groaning into it. She had been in no condition to work after dealing with that woman, and Aya would not stand for her coming into work when she was in no condition to be working. The other woman was fully aware of how stubborn she is when she wanted to get something done, and it was something Alfred knew too.

Alfred…

Out of habit, (Y/N) looked over to her husband’s side of the bed, but, as she expected, did not find him. Seeing this, she sighed.

There she went again.

Why couldn’t she have been like Alfred, who was able to deal with angry and unreasonable people and not be exhausted afterwards? Hell, she couldn’t understand how the rest of her family was able to do that, and none of them ever worked in a customer-service job!

How were they not able to get tired from that?

(Y/N) felt embarrassed with herself...and disgusting. Sighing, and even though it went against her schedule, she went into the bathroom and brushed her hair, washed her face, and brushed her teeth, spitting out the toothpaste in irritation.

She just had to waste another drop of toothpaste because of this.

Either way, (Y/N) changed out of her work uniform and into a baggy sweater and ankle-length skirt, not caring if it matched or not or how her guests would look at her.

She was done feeling like a burden for today.

So, stealing herself, (Y/N) walked out of the bedroom, pointedly ignoring the few nations that passed her, as well as their eyes on her as they watched her walk towards the kitchen, where she could smell something delicious.

She really needed to ask Alfred when the nations would finally leave. She didn’t want her house to be full of strangers, much less strangers that her husband was forced to work with almost every single day.

Walking into the kitchen, (Y/N) immediately spotted her husband at the stove/oven, cooling off some of...were those bagel rolls?

Hearing her footsteps, Alfred turned to her, smiling. “Hey darling,” he greeted. “How are you feeling?”

 _Better now,_ (Y/N) replied, walking to her husband’s side. _I’m still tired, but I feel much better now._

“I’m glad to hear that.” Alfred then presented the bagel rolls. “And I made your favorites, like I promised.”

(Y/N) smiled in happiness, giving Alfred’s arm a quick hug before pulling away. _Thank you so much Alfred. They smell really good._

“I’m glad to hear that. They’re not cool yet though, so be careful when you pick one up.”

 _I will._ She then looked at the door leading to the kitchen. _Are we going to be sharing these with the nations?_

“A separate batch yes,” Alfred answered, “but this batch is all yours.”

(Y/N)’s eyes widened. _A-Are you sure Alfred?_ she asked.

Alfred nodded, still smiling. “I’m sure darling. Still, you and I can eat in here while the nations eat in the dining room if you want.”

(Y/N) smiled back. _Sure. That sounds nice._

There was thankfully another small table that Alfred and (Y/N) used whenever they thought of having only small meals, which were quite common on Fridays. (Y/N) twitched again and how that’s changed today, and wondered if she and Alfred were going to have to change that again later.

Once she was sure the bagels were cool enough, (Y/N) grabbed a plate and took one, loving how warm and firm the baked bread was against her fingers. Sitting down, she blew on it a little bit before taking a small bite.

Her tongue was immediately blessed with the taste of the tomato sauce, cheese, and the crunchy/soft bread mixing together. She smiled instinctively, then took another small bite, and another, and another, until she was halfway through it.

Alfred was smiling at her. “I take it you like it?” he asked.

(Y/N) gave her husband a playful glare. _Of course it’s good!_ she said after swallowing her next bite. _You always know how to cook these just right when I’m not making them myself._

Alfred grinned. “Glad to know that I can make your recipe to perfection.”

_Oh hush you._

While (Y/N) was eating the bagel roll, Alfred put on some oven mittens and grabbed the other trays containing bagel rolls and walked out of the kitchen. She then heard the nations heading towards the dining room, but paid them no mind as she finished her bagel roll and got up to grab another one.

As soon as she sat down and took a bite of her second bagel roll, Alfred walked back in, grabbing a bagel roll from a separate tray and sitting down in front of her, quietly eating his own in peace.

When (Y/N) was halfway through hers, Alfred looked up at her. “Are you really okay darling?” he asked, concern etched into his voice.

(Y/N) looked at her husband, her lips pursed a moment before she forced them to relax. _I...guess I am,_ she “said” lamely.

“(Y/N).” Alfred did not sound pleased when he said her name, and (Y/N) had to keep herself from flinching at the utter seriousness of his voice, something he rarely used with her.

So, with a sigh, she set down her bagel roll and stared at the table. _Alfred,_ she began, _do you remember all those years ago, when we were getting to know each other, and I was still working at that awful place?_

Alfred said nothing, but from the way his fist clenched on the table, (Y/N) knew he remembered. _That woman reminded me of my former boss, which was why I looked the way I did in the car._

“He’s been fired long ago though (Y/N),” said Alfred gently.

_And I’m glad about that. He was never a good role model for his employees, more especially me._

Even now, years after she left that job, she could still remember the condescending words of her boss and of her coworkers, whether they were to her face or when they thought she was never listening.

(Y/N) then heard her husband’s teeth clench. “No, he wasn’t,” he agreed, taking an aggressive bite of his bagel roll. “I still remember asking you why you even stayed in that job when there were better options.”

(Y/N) laughed weakly. _Yeah, I remember that too. I was just so scared of losing that job because it was the only place that accepted me, and if it meant I had to deal with harsh criticisms and people thinking I’m asexual because of my autism, then so be it. Still, I’m glad you were there to talk me out of it._

“Me too. And thankfully, I got that fucker fired and unable to find another job when I showed the police how poorly he treated you.”

(Y/N) burst out laughing at that. Even after all these years, she can still remember the expression on her (now ex) boss and coworkers’ faces when his treatment of her was found out. She could tell they had been horrified about losing their jobs from their tones of voices, and began to blame her for it until they were harshly silenced by her husband. She didn’t understand what his expression portrayed at that moment, but she knew it was a horrible one if how quickly her boss and coworkers went silent were any indication.

Oh, what she wouldn’t give to see how their pathetic asses were doing today.

“Enough of that though,” said Alfred, taking another bite of his roll. “Let’s just enjoy these while they’re still warm. No more talking about that today, alright?”

(Y/N) nodded. _Of course. I was getting tired of talking about that anyway._

Alfred laughed.


	37. Apologize

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Please be aware that the next two chapters (and others) will contain references of child abuse and neglect, so if any of you are victims of that kind of abuse or others, please proceed with extreme caution. ******

The rest of lunch went by peacefully, and (Y/N) had gone to work on more of her candles and bath bombs right after helping America move the dirty dishes into the sink. Thankfully, they didn’t fill the entire sink, so (Y/N) could do the dishes herself on the scheduled time.

Though, personally, with how things have been going, America wouldn’t be surprised if that changed as well.

But (Y/N) didn’t need to know that, not right now at least.

So, America decided to head to his office to get started on some much needed paperwork. The other nations probably weren’t done with their lunch yet due to how quiet the house was, and America considered that a good thing.

It would help him focus better, and hopefully help (Y/N) recover faster.

Closing the office door behind him, America sat down at his desk, grabbing his pen as he proceeded to grab paper after paper and looked over their contents.

Oh boy…

America rested his head in his hands as he looked over the papers’ contents. This is one of the things he hates about his job, especially when idiots were involved.

Still, it sadly couldn’t be helped. These kinds of people were everywhere, even in the government.

Sighing deeply, America proceeded to write, keeping an eye on the small clock next to the corner of his desk.

This was going to be a long four hours.

~~~

A knock came at the door, causing America to look up from the packet he was in the process of reading.

“Who is it?” he called, expecting to hear (Y/N)’s tapping, but instead a male voice responded.

“America, it’s me.” Oh great. “Can I come in? We need to talk.”

America resisted the urge to groan and seethe at the same time. Taking the deepest breath he had taken in his life, he responded. “It’s unlocked.”

The door immediately opened at that, revealing England. His face, for the first time in a long time, was devoid of any emotion, except for an exhaustion that America rarely saw in the older nation. He eyed him carefully, watching as he closed the door behind him and stood by the door.

America gestured to one of the chairs seated across him. “Take a seat,” he requested. England hesitated a moment, but ultimately took a seat, crossing his legs as he got himself comfortable.

America set down the packet. “How can I help you Mr. Kirkland?” he asked, leaning back against his own chair.

England said nothing a moment, though he did take a deep breath before he spoke. “America,” he paused to sigh again, “I...would like to apologize.”

America froze, barely registering that his mouth was hanging partly open and his eyes had gone wide. Wait, wait, wait, wait, was he hearing right? England? Apologizing?

England must’ve seen America’s expression, for he continued. “You look shocked,” he remarked ruefully. “That doesn’t surprise me, believe it or not. You see, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately, especially after you came out and revealed what you’re really like, that you have a wife. Obviously, I had a hard time accepting the reality before me, in fact everyone had a hard time accepting it, especially your brother.”

“He’s not my brother,” hissed America.

England flinched. “America--”

“Enough.” America held up a hand. “I don’t want to hear it England. Why don’t you continue with what you were saying before?” America’s tone left no room for argument.

England once more went silent before sighing again. “I see. I’ll have you know that I’m not here to apologize for everyone’s behavior, especially China’s, but for what I did.”

America said nothing.

“America…” England sighed again. “Like I said, I have been doing a lot of thinking lately, and today just made me wake up to reality. It may sound foolish, but it’s the truth. I realized that I turned you into this, we all turned you into this.”

America remained silent.

“I neglected you, hurt you emotionally and mentally, and all for my own selfish desires. I treated you like a trophy when you were still my colony, never thought of how my actions were affecting you, even after you gained independence. I’ve also been asking the question; What could I have done differently? If I hadn’t been so neglectful, so callous towards your feelings, would you have been a better man?”

America narrowed his eyes.

“It’s hypocritical, I know, especially since I did nothing to help or defend you after all those years since you gained independence. I did nothing to defend you from the others, nor did I tell them what they have been doing to you for all these years was wrong. I never stopped and took a good look at myself, at what I was doing to you, and look what happened. The wars you were forced to be a part of molded you into this, and I’m surprised that you have not gone insane.”

“Trust me, I almost did on several occasions,” America said, voice somber. “I almost killed myself several times throughout the centuries too.”

England winced again. “You have no idea how sorry I am America,” he said. “How sorry we all are, but...I hate that I’m saying this, but you’re starting to scare me.”

America went silent again.

“I know, it’s pathetic, but it’s the truth. When you didn’t hesitate to hurt China after he badmouthed your wife, when you didn’t hesitate to hurt and humiliate us those days ago for following you, I was terrified. In both times, I thought I was looking at a monster, a monster who would hurt and continue to hurt, especially the people he cares about.”

America clenched his teeth. “Are you suggesting that I would hurt (Y/N)?” he asked.

“Not intentionally,” England admitted, “but you could.”

America glared at him, furious. “How dare you--”

“Just listen to me for once America.” England held up a hand, which succeeded in silencing America. “I said that you would not hurt her intentionally, but that doesn’t mean you can’t hurt her. Remember, you are a nation, and it will only be a matter of time before she dies of old age and you will stay the same. Still, have you not thought about how your actions towards us could be scaring her deep down?”

America went back to being silent, but his fist began to clench.

“I have no doubt that you love her America, and she with you, it would take a complete fool to not see that, but still, have you ever thought of how your past and current actions could be affecting her? Who’s to say that you won’t end up intentionally hurting her too?”

A chill ruthlessly shot up his spine.

“I’m old America,” England continued, “and, as a result, I have seen a lot of things, things that I hoped you would never have to see for your age before all this bullocks happened. Therefore, I know that you have seen how people hurt the people they claim to love, sometimes with the belief that they “deserve it”. Sometimes, it’s because it’s all that person knows, since they had to grow up with it, similar with all nations.

“You’ve had to witness a lot of things for your young age, such as war, people being killed, racism, slavery, abuse, and more, and it affected you deeply, especially since you didn’t have anyone to support you throughout the years.”

“You’re wrong,” America denied, hating how weak his voice sounded. “My bosses...the various people that made my nation into what it is, they helped me.”

“But they’re gone America,” England said gently, making America clench his teeth and his eyes to burn painfully. “I hate to say that, but they couldn’t be with you through it all. They’re not like us. They all died eventually, they’re mortal.”

“I know that,” whispered America.

“And your wife is one of them.” England reached forward, hesitating at first, then placing a hand on America’s. America flinched, but didn’t pull away. “And I don’t want you to become one of the people that ends up hurting others because of what happened in your past, even though it was mostly my fault.”

America said nothing for several moments, closing and unclosing his fist over and over. “That’s why you followed me to the shop the other day, isn’t it?” he asked.

England leaned back against the chair, taking his hand away in the process. “Yes,” he admitted.

“And was it so you could find something to use against me?” The bitterness seeped into America’s tone before he could stop it.

This time, if he flinched, England didn’t show it. “No,” he answered. “It wasn’t that. It never was about that. We were desperate to hang on to what we knew, I was trying to hold on to the you I was so accustomed to. We were all desperate to see if there was anything of the old you in you America.”

America clenched his teeth, glaring hard at his former caretaker. “Are you fucking serious?” he hissed through his teeth. “First, all those centuries ago, you wanted me to grow up and be a nation, then you hurt me and talked behind my back when you thought I wasn’t within hearing distance at every chance you got because I wasn’t the perfect little colony you wanted, and now, after so many centuries of wanting me to _grow the fuck up_ , you want the old me back?!”

England didn’t answer.

America stood up from his chair, still glaring hard at the other nation. “How thick-headed can you possibly be Arthur Kirkland?” he asked, still through his teeth. “Do you hate me, or are you only lying to yourself like you have all these years?”

“It’s not like that America.”

“Then what is it?!” America slammed his fist against the table, resulting in a loud crack to appear in the wood. “Do you really expect me to believe everything you say, after everything you’ve done to me?! After all the times you couldn’t take responsibility for what you did to me?! To my family?!”

England went silent once more.

“I was perfectly happy until you came into my life _Arthur_ ,” spat America. “I was doing just fine before you came, before you destroyed my mother, before you tore my brother and I apart in more ways than I can count, and before...ha, before you betrayed me, over and over and over again!” America knew tears were streaming down his face, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t bring himself to care. “So, is it really any wonder why I’m the way I am today? Why I’m so protective of my own wife?

“And let me be honest with you Arthur,” continued America, walking around the desk towards England, “I am fucking scared of what you turned me into. And I know that it will never disappear, because it’s a part of me. You, and the other goddamn nations made sure of that.”

“America--”

“Not. One. Word, Kirkland,” hissed America. “I am not done yet. I’m going to tell you what you needed to hear for centuries now, so you better shut up and listen good, for I will not repeat myself and waste my breath on you anymore than I have to.”

England went silent once more.

“To put it bluntly, England, _I hate you_ ,” whispered America. “I hate you so much, so much that I really want to kill you right now. I really do, I actually want to feel your blood on my hands, feel the satisfaction of watching you in pain, but do you know what? I find myself holding back now.”

England blinked. “...uh?”

“I told you not to speak,” America warned. “I’m not done yet.”

England held up his hands in surrender and didn’t say another word.

“You’re right about one thing though, I don’t want to be like you, nor do I want to end up like those bastards and bitches that hurt the people they claim to love because they either “deserve it”, it’s all they know, or both. I would rather slit my own throat a thousand times over than even attempt to hurt my own wife, but if there’s one thing you’re wrong about, it’s that I know she’s not afraid of me. She was never afraid of me when she learned the truth about me, I thought your stay here would show you that.”

England didn’t respond.

America then walked back around his desk and sat down, relaxing as best he could. “However, since you have taken responsibility for your actions for once in your life, I will accept your apology, and I will admit that I am to blame too. I have not been a very generous host to my own guests, even if those guests are the people I hate the most, and that is on me. And since you finally apologized, I will do my best to try forgiving you for what you did.”

England’s face uplifted with hope. “You will…?” he asked weakly, but joyfully.

“I just said that didn’t I?” repeated America, raising an eyebrow, “but that does not mean that I am going to accept an apology from the other nations until they make the apologies themselves, and to my face. I also expect you and the others to apologize to (Y/N) when you do, for your behavior has not been helping her these past several days.”

England winced again, but his face morphed into one of tired yet happy acceptance. “I understand,” he said, standing up. “Well, thank you for your time America, and, please, you will at least try to change your habits, right?”

“I wouldn’t have accepted your apology if I wasn’t going to England,” America remarked. “Now, do you mind if you leave please? I need to finish all this before dinner, and I would like to not have to worry about them when we are going to head to France’s country.”

England snorted a little at the prospect, but nodded all the same. “Alright, thanks for listening America.”

“No problem.” Without another word, England walked out of the office and closed the door, leaving America alone with his paperwork. America stared at the door for several moments before he picked up the packet from before and proceeded to look through its contents and write the necessary notes and confirmations.

And while he was doing this, a ghost of a smile graced his lips.


	38. What Do You Want for Dinner?

A knock came at the door, bringing her out of her stupor.

“Hm?” she called, glancing at the clock before clicking her tongue once she saw that it wasn’t time for dinner yet.

“Miss (Y/N)?” called a voice that wasn’t Alfred’s. “Can I come in for a moment?”

What the…

(Y/N) immediately got up from her desk, wiping her hands as she grabbed the doorknob and slowly turned. Just as slowly, she opened the door and peaked out, where she saw wavy blonde hair and bright blue eyes.

She resisted the urge to groan and mumble to herself. Only one person in this house had that hair and eyes.

Her dismay must’ve been seen, because France continued to talk. “Is it alright if come in? I need to talk to you. Please? It is urgent.”

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow, but ultimately disappeared from France’s view to open the door wider. France didn’t hesitate to walk inside, nor sit down at the area (Y/N) pointed him to without looking at him. While he got himself comfortable, (Y/N) went back to sitting at her work station, grabbing a whiteboard and marker before she crossed her legs and placed both hands on her lap, staring at France expectantly, or what she thought was expectantly.

France immediately started talking again. “Forgive me for interrupting you, mademoiselle, I know you must be very busy--”

 _What did you need to talk to me about?_ (Y/N) asked on the whiteboard, interrupting him.

France recoiled a little, then slumped against the chair. “It’s about…” He sighed. “I’ve come to apologize.”

(Y/N) tilted her head.

“I know we all should have done zhis much earlier, should’ve understood zhat zhings would not be zhe way we zhought zhey would, but I have come to apologize for myself, Miss (Y/N). I have not come to apologize for how zhe others, especially Matthieu, have been behaving towards you and Amerique these past several days, but for how I’ve been treating you both.”

(Y/N) stared at him a moment, then took a moment to write on her whiteboard. _Why are you apologizing to me?_ she asked. _Why not to Alfred?_

“Because Angleterre has beaten me to it at zhis time,” France answered, “and my actions have negatively impacted you as well.”

(Y/N) didn’t write another word, waiting for the other man to continue.

“Oui, Amerique does need to hear zhese words, more zhan anyone, but I wanted to tell you because I wanted to let you know how deeply sorry I am, for everyzhing I did during my stay here, and, most of all, for what I did to Amerique, as you are his wife.”

(Y/N) didn’t write another word as she waited to hear France’s words, relaxing against her chair in the meantime.

“Before I get started, has Amerique told you anyzhing about his past?”

(Y/N) nodded. _Everything._

France slumped against the chair. “I see. Zhen you know how I wasn’t zhe one who raised Amerique, instead raising his brother, Matthieu, zhat I was zhe one who helped him win the Revolutionary War, to gain independence.”

(Y/N) nodded again.

France sighed longingly. “Zhat boy,” he began, “he was so adorable, so innocent when he was a young child. Holding a rabbit, looking at zhe world with zhe wonder any child his age would have, so small...I wanted to take care of him, just like I had with Matthieu, for I surely believed zhat I would’ve been a better caretaker zhan Angleterre would hope to be. After all, his cooking is atrocious!”

France sighed sadly. “Yet, Amerique chose him of all people to care for him, despite knowing zhat. And, later, when I saw him again as a young man, I zhought, “I would’ve done a much better job raising him!” He is so childish, so naive, how could Angleterre ever zhink he would able to raise a nation right? After all, he is not zhe best at displaying affection, even to his own brothers. I’m sure Amerique told you zhat as well.”

(Y/N) nodded again.

France scoffed wryly, the movement sad. “I truly wonder when I became so foolish after all zhese centuries. Why I never zhought what I was doing with Angleterre was hurting Amerique so much, all zhose wars on his soil, the genocide of zhe native people, disease, and being sucked dry of all his resources and money to benefit his own caretaker because of his wars with me. I suppose that’s where I became so...abusive to him even after he gained independence.”

(Y/N) clenched her teeth, clutching at the whiteboard in a white-knuckled grip.

France smiled at her. “So he really has told you everyzhing,” he mused. “I should’ve expected zhat. You are his wife after all.” He shook his head again, clearly a sad action. “I can see why he married you, you really are a good woman for him, much better zhan any of us have been to him.”

(Y/N) “said” nothing, though she did purse her lips.

“Well, zhen I don’t need to tell you how cruelly I have treated him after zhe Revolutionary War, how I indirectly turned his own brother against him, and allowed him to be hurt, hurt, and more hurt throughout zhe centuries, either by his own people or us. I did nothing to stop it, and now? I realize I should have.”

France looked directly at her, and immediately (Y/N) felt goosebumps form on her flesh from the subtle but sure change in the atmosphere in response to France’s feelings.

“I’m going to be honest here, Miss (Y/N). Zhe issue is zhat I’m scared of what Amerique has become, of what he could become because of our inaction and our abuse of him. Zhat also means zhat I’m also scared for you too, Miss (Y/N).”

(Y/N) stared at him for several moments, then furiously wrote on her board. _Are you suggesting that my husband will hurt me?_ she asked. _Alfred? The man who had my back throughout all the years I’ve known him, who protected me when I had no one I could turn to? Who married me because he truly loved me and not because he pitied me for having autism and for being non-verbal? You think he would hurt me?_

France flinched. “I understand zhat you’re angry Miss (Y/N), and you have every right to be, but--”

 _Why don’t you hurry up and get to the apology Mr. Bonnefoy?_ (Y/N) demanded. _If you’re going to come in here and continue to question my husband’s intentions, intentions that_ you _have forced upon him years ago, I don’t see why you’re here talking with me--_

“It’s because we’re all fucking scared!” France yelled, startling (Y/N) and causing her ears to ring painfully. “We’re scared of what Amerique is capable of, now zhat we know who he really is, zhat he lied about what he really is, how easily he fooled us! You must’ve seen it yourself when you first met him, have you not?! How he--”

It took France a moment to realize that (Y/N) was no longer sitting in her chair, but laying crumpled up on the floor, covering her ears in pain and whimpering so quietly that he had to strain to hear.

He gapped. “Mademoiselle, what happened?” He reached out to help her. “Are you oka--”

Just then (Y/N) glared up at him, teeth bared in fury and her hands still clutching at her ears in pain. She quickly wrote on the whiteboard and showed it to him.

_You need to leave. Now._

“Wh--” France barely could get the word out when he found himself being shoved towards the door, and not very gently either. Eventually, before he knew it, he was shoved right through the door, and he sharply turned back around. “W-Wait, Miss (Y/N)--”

But the door was already closed, and France heard the lock clicking into place as soon as he himself collided with it. “Miss (Y/N) please! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to yell, don’t lock me out! Please, I’m sorry!”

There wasn’t an answer from behind the door.

“Miss (Y/N), please!” France continued to plead. “I really am sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to yell. It’s just…” He leaned his forehead against the door, feeling tears stinging his eyes. “I just need you to know the truth on why we’re so scared. Why...why many of us followed you that day when Amerique went to have lunch with you.”

There still wasn’t an answer from behind, and France didn’t know if (Y/N) was listening or not, but he doubted that mattered. Meanwhile, (Y/N), still seething, returned to go back to her work, but upon hearing France’s last two sentences, stopped whatever she was doing.

There was another reason they followed them? How odd.

“I know zhis will sound hypocritical to you, and it is, but...zhe reason we followed you and Amerique was because...we were trying to find any sense of normalcy with Amerique, if zhere was anyzhing of zhe man we zhought we knew, if zhere was any sign of a good man in him. When he...didn’t hesitate to hurt us, even humiliate us in zhat alleyway, I...I didn’t zhink I was looking at Amerique, but...an actual monster. I was scared, really scared zhat...he would kill us, a feeling zhat I had not felt in such a long time.

“I don’t know if you believe me or not, Miss (Y/N), and I know zhis may not mean much to you. After all, we are zhe reason why your husband is zhe man he is, but still...whether you believe it or not, I’m worried about what he may do to you if zhis continues.” France scoffed at himself. “I know, it’s pathetic of me to admit zhis, as I am one of the many people who turned him into zhis, and I barely know you, but still...I’m old, we are all old, and zhat means we have seen a lot of terrible things happen to zhe people around us, especially when zhey are in romantic relationships.

“You may already know zhis, but we have all seen people getting hurt in zhose kinds of relationships, often with zhe thought zhat zhey deserve to be hurt in such a manner. Again, you have known zhe real Amerique much longer zhan me, but still, I zhink even you can admit zhat zhis is concerning, do you not?”

Silence answered France, not that he was expecting anything else, but still…

“Amerique has not had zhe proper help from zhe people who should’ve cared, who should not have been so cruel to him over somezhing zhat wasn’t his fault. I know zhat it’s taken me years to say zhis, much longer zhan necessary, but please, Miss (Y/N)...” France leaned his head against the door. “Will you, at least, hear me out again? I promise I won’t try to yell zhis time, and if I do, you are more than welcome to kick me out again.”

Silence answered him once more, and, after several moments, France sighed dejectedly, turning to leave.

“I see,” he said. “Zhen I’m sorry to have bothered you, Miss (Y/N).”

But then the sound of a lock was heard.

Turning around in astonishment, France saw the door opening, with (Y/N) peeking her head out at him. She wondered what she must look like to the man, if he was able to see the eerie calmness on her face despite what had just happened. They stared at each other for a moment before (Y/N) disappeared from sight and the door opened wide.

Then she brought out the whiteboard. _Are you coming in?_ it asked.

France stared, bewildered, and (Y/N) sighed in irritation, finally snapping the nation from his stupor.

“O-Oui!” he answered, rushing towards her and into her room, immediately sitting down in the chair he occupied previously, face flushing. The door then closed, and (Y/N) moved to sit in the chair across from him as before.

For many moments, they said nothing except stared at each other. Then, (Y/N) moved towards her work station, grabbing a rose-shaped cup and grabbing some ingredients for a bath bomb.

France looked at her, confused at what she was doing.

(Y/N) then signed.

 _Do you understand American Sign Language okay?_ she asked.

France blinked at her, not understanding. So, sighing at the irritation she was going to be feeling, she held up a finger and got started on writing, making sure to leave nothing out. It was several minutes later when she finally finished, and she then handed the whiteboard to France.

France took it, eyeing it with what seemed to be confusion. “What...do you want me to do with zhis?” he asked.

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow, then made the motion of looking over the words and pointing at her eyes.

France flinched, then nodded. “O-Of course.”

While he read, (Y/N) went to working on her new bath bomb, praying that she wouldn’t regret this, much less pay attention to the fact that one of the people who hurt her husband was in this room with her and that he was reading of her own experiences.

It was when she had set the bath bomb aside that France stopped reading, and he looked up at her slowly, his eyes and mouth open wide as he looked at her.

“I--” He sighed in what felt like guilt. “I’m so sorry.”

(Y/N) shook her head as she took the whiteboard back, quickly using her sleeve to wipe away any residue of France before she wiped the whiteboard clean and began to write.

She then showed it to him. _Now do you see?_ she asked. _Alfred and I didn’t just bond over his ability to love me for me and my ability to love him for him. It’s because we can understand what the other has been through, and true, while I will never understand being forced to watch people die, participate in a war, be tortured, or witness humanity at its ugliest over and over, I know what it’s like to be discriminated by the people around you for what you have no control over. By your own family, by complete strangers, by who you thought were your friends._

(Y/N) wiped the board clean and began to write again, showing it to France once more after she was finished.

_It hurts Mr. Bonnefoy, it hurts more than you could ever know. Knowing your own family had not bothered to understand you when you were a child, and instead placed restrictions on you that you know you could never live up to. My parents, my own parents, never understood why I wouldn’t pay with dolls or wear dresses when I was a child, for my brother’s clothes were so comfortable, more comfortable than the clothes they chose for me, and dolls had no purpose for me when playing. I even preferred having male friends, for they were far more understanding than girls, but my parents and, hell, my teachers hated that!_

She erased and wrote on the board again.

_Not only that, but as I got older, my parents wanted me to date, despite knowing how I never understood romantic relationships at that age. They wanted me to find a husband, someone who didn’t respect me, who wouldn’t take the time to understand me. Those situations I was forced in, both in and out of work, were horrible. No one tried to understand me, and I was always on the receiving end of bullying from my own boss and coworkers in my past workplace because of it._

(Y/N) erased and wrote again.

_When I met Alfred, you were right about one thing. He was lost, broken, and angry, and I knew he understood what I was going through, and I him. We both were victims of a world where people wanted us to be someone we’re not, where they harshly criticized us without knowing us at all, and where they hurt us because they didn’t want to understand us. We were each other’s best friend, and he was the one true friend I lacked throughout my life. It was how I was able to fall in love and marry him._

She erased and wrote again.

_Even after what they did to me, I knew my parents would want to be a part of my wedding, and while we did invite them, Alfred didn’t invite his. At first, I felt that they didn’t deserve to see how happy we were together, how we no longer needed them. Though, it was through Alfred and I getting married and seeing how happy I was with him that my parents understood where they went wrong, and they apologized to me profusely for not trying to understand me throughout my life, but then they began asking me when I would give them grandchildren. Me? A mother? I could never raise a child even if I gave birth to one._

_Alfred respected my choice, and we both chose to remain childfree, one of the best choices we’ve ever made. Once my parents saw that, they respected my decision for once, and I remember breaking down into tears when they did that, and even now, I like to think that our relationship is improving._

(Y/N) sobbed after she wrote that, and she harshly wiped her eyes before she once more erased and wrote on the board and showed it to France.

_Still, it hurts knowing that your own parents tried to turn you into someone you were not without taking into consideration how harmful it is to you. I’m glad that they changed their ways and are trying to have a better relationship with me, and now I’m focusing on being the best person I can be, of living my life how I want, and of being happily married to a wonderful man, especially one that never keeps anything from me._

She set down her whiteboard after France was done reading, and the man was looking at her now, a calm but sad feeling in the air now.

Then, he spoke.

“I know I don’t have the right to ask zhis, but how long have you and Amerique been married?”

(Y/N) held up the whiteboard. _Five years._

France’s mouth parted slightly at those words, and he smiled, a smile that felt sad.

“Five years, huh?” he mused, voice low with sadness. “Zhat’s quite a long time.”

(Y/N) nodded, then showed him her whiteboard again. _I...suppose I owe you an apology as well._

“Hm?” France was staring at her, clearly cut off guard by how wide his mouth was open.

She continued followed up. _I, too, need to apologize. I haven’t been treating any of you very well either, even though I’m supposed to be the hostess. That alone wasn’t my specialty, but dealing with the people who made my husband’s life hell for three fucking centuries? It was always difficult for me to be nice to you, and I hope you can accept my apology for that, especially towards you._

France’s mouth opened and closed. “I...well...uh…”

 _However,_ continued (Y/N), _I am not apologizing for the rest of you. Not yet at least, until I hear their own apologies for their own behavior, especially China. I will forgive Russia, North and South Italy, Germany, Spain, and Japan since they have made an effort to be good people in this house, better people for my husband even, but I can’t say the same for the rest of you._

France said nothing a moment. “I...see, that’s understandable. The others do need to make their own apologies, and, again, I can’t apologize for all of them, especially with how Matthieu’s been behaving recently.”

(Y/N) nodded, snorting with bitterness. Matthew Williams, her brother-in-law, the favorite child of the family, the estranged twin of her husband. How ironic.

And she did not totally understand irony.

Just then, an alarm was heard, and (Y/N) looked towards her alarm while France jumped. Turning it off, she got up from her chair and turned to France. _It’s time for dinner,_ she wrote, walking to the door. When she didn’t hear the sound of a body getting up, she turned around, confused. _Are you coming?_ she asked.

France jumped again. “Oui, I’m coming! Sorry.”

 _It’s fine._ (Y/N) then walked out of the room, heading towards the kitchen. She quickly wrote on the whiteboard again, which she presented to France while they were walking.

_So, what do you want for dinner?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you guys know, (Y/N) is a woman in her early to mid 30’s, which means that she grew up during a time when the autism spectrum in girls and women was not as understood as with boys and men like it may be today. As a result, many girls were victims of (sometimes unintentional) emotional abuse from their parents and family members, their teachers, and other children, which negatively impacted their self-esteem, sense of security, and sense of identity. As an autistic person who has been through a portion of that, I remember how much it hurt when other children didn’t bother to understand me and excluded me from their games, and at the time I didn’t understand why they did what they did. Now, I enjoy being alone so I can do what I love doing, but I still remember how much it hurt when I was in elementary school, and I still think that it’s a defense mechanism against all that.
> 
> Also, and although I wouldn’t consider this abuse, my parents sometimes forced me to do things that I didn’t want to do (such as wearing uncomfortable clothing and going to church because I felt like the former made me look like a toy to be admired (and again very, very uncomfortable) and church was so freaking loud), and how strict they are to this day, so much so that I am a little distrustful of them and of even showing them my writing prompts, due to the fact that I'm worried that they will judge me and forbid me from doing what I love doing (despite me being an adult) and thus causing me to be very secretive.
> 
> Anyway, I learned more about this through psychologist Karen McKibben, who dedicated her career to understanding and helping both autistic boys and girls and developing a better understanding towards the spectrum in girls, which led to her writing the book “Life on the Autism Spectrum: A Guide for Girls and Women”, where she not only interviewed anonymous autistic women about their experiences, but also explored the life of a woman named Alison, who struggled throughout her early and adult life with undiagnosed autism (she was finally diagnosed in her 40’s or 50’s). As a result, she struggled with everyday interactions with other people, was a victim of bullying in school and the workplace as well as gender labeling, and faced emotional and psychological abuse from her parents, other children, and her own coworkers, which caused her to eventually swear off relationships and be distrustful of other people due to those negative experiences, thinking that going through all that just to find a friend wasn’t worth it.
> 
> Although, keep in mind, despite the book itself being written and published in 2016, the exact time frame that Alison lived in was never specified, and it’s unknown if Alison herself is a real or fictional woman.
> 
> Finally, if you wish to ask me any questions about my stories (as long as they are not disrespectful), here’s my Tumblr: https://37054ljh.tumblr.com/


	39. Confusion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update everyone. I'm going to try updating each of my current stories until I finish them before I get started on any new ones, that way I can focus on them and not worry about the ones I haven't finished beforehand.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

America had been surprised by many things throughout his life, and he will continue to be surprised by things for as long as he existed. It was, after all, how life worked.

However, what he didn't expect (or rather the last thing he expected to ever happen) was seeing (Y/N) and France cooking together in the kitchen.

Now, he could only stare, wondering if his eyes were playing tricks on him.

"You are doing amazing, mademoiselle!" France cheered, smiling cheerfully at (Y/N). "I didn't know you liked omelets!"

(Y/N) only smirked, but didn't look away from her cooking.

"Darling, Mr. Bonnefoy?" America finally called, drawing the pair's attention. "What are you doing?"

France flinched into attention, even though America felt nothing but confusion at the moment. (Y/N), however, wasn't as jumpy, and moved to place her cooking to the side so it wouldn't burn and signed to him.

_Mr. Bonnefoy requested we make some French dinner tonight, and I didn't think it would hurt. Right now, we're making classic French omelet; you know, the omelet that only has salt, pepper, and some herbs mixed in and not cheese and pieces of meat such as bacon?_

America nodded in understanding. "I see that, but..." He couldn't say anything else.

Regardless, (Y/N) seemed to understand, then pointedly looked at France, gesturing her head to him. France too seemed to understand what she was implying, and as he proceeded to walk towards him, (Y/N) signed to America.

_After you're done, do you mind helping me with dessert? I've already got it made, I just want to know if you're willing to make the ice cream and whipped cream to go along with it._

"Can do, darling." America smiled lovingly in his wife's direction before stepping out of the kitchen's doorway with France in tow. Though, from the look on the older nation's face, this was going another exhausting conversation.

He was suddenly glad that England was nowhere near him at the moment.

~~~

(Y/N) was busy finishing up the omelets and getting started on the next dish she was going to make when her husband came back in, and from the way he was staring at the ground and not saying anything to her, he was tired, probably more tired than he had been in a long time. She quickly abandoned whatever she had been doing and reached his side.

 _Are you okay?_ she asked.

Alfred looked at her, and he smiled, but it didn't feel truly genuine. "I'm fine darling," he answered, voice low. "Just a little tired is all."

 _Alfred_. (Y/N) gave him an unimpressed look, or at least one that told Alfred that she did not believe him.

It must've worked, because Alfred sighed mutely. "France apologized to me," he then said. "He also told me that he talked and apologized to you too while England was talking to me. It's just...it feels so weird, hearing apologies coming from those two."

 _I don't think there's anything wrong about that,_ (Y/N) replied, gently grasping her husband's arm. _After all, those two were only a couple of the many people who hurt you for no reason other than the fear of losing control of their power._

"I know," said Alfred. "I just hope that I won't regret this. Neither England or France, or hell almost all of the nations, are able to keep their word unless it's to save their own skin."

(Y/N) "said" nothing to that.

"(Y/N)." Alfred looked down at her, and his gaze felt heavy. "Do you think...that I'm making a mistake?"

(Y/N) did not do anything for a moment, then she moved. _I don't know Alfred, I really don't. However, I think you have to admit that those two managing to apologize for what they did is astounding, especially since you told me that the both of them have egos that are probably as big as the moon._

America couldn't help but snort in agreement at that. "That's true. I guess..." He sighed again. "I guess we'll just have to wait and see if we made the right decisions, and if not, we'll cross that bridge when we get to it. Now, you said you wanted me to help you with the desserts?"

 _Yes,_ "said" (Y/N). _Again, I got them ready, I just need to get the ice cream and whipped cream ready in case anyone wants to have them with one or the other while I'm working on this new dish Mr. Bonnefoy showed me._ Then she remembered. _Where is Mr. Bonnefoy anyway?_

Alfred looked out the doorway. "He probably went to join the others in getting ready for dinner," he said. "Either that or he's taking the time to have a glass of wine before dinner, knowing him. It's either one or the other."

(Y/N) shrugged. _Well, let's get finished up then before they arrive._

"Sure thing, darling."

~~~

Eventually, all the dishes for dinner and dessert were finished, and (Y/N) and Alfred were in the midst of getting them out to the table. As expected, none of the other nations were at the table at this time, so the husband and wife duo were left with some peace and quiet as they got the table ready.

For dinner, alongside the classic French omelet she made with France's assistance, (Y/N) also made petite filets with spicy pink creme fraiche and shoestring mushrooms, another French dish that France proposed she make. Of course, for herself, (Y/N) made sure to leave some untouched steak for herself, making sure that it was medium rare. Meanwhile, for dessert, they would be having the individual chocolate tarts she made the night before with sides of homemade vanilla bean ice cream and whipped cream in case anyone wanted to have the tarts with either or by itself.

(Y/N) always liked having the tarts by themselves, as the taste of a different flavor of ice cream or of whipped cream combined with another kind of dessert (or basically two or more desserts mixing together) would overwhelm her senses, sometimes to the point where she couldn't tell which was which. Still, this dessert was one of the many things she liked about Mr. Gordon Ramsay, for he was very creative and precise when it came to food.

They were about done with setting up the utensils for the meal when the nations finally arrived.

They all were quiet, which wasn't surprising to the couple considering the last couple of days, but what did surprise them was the fact that both England and France were smiling slightly. Of course, (Y/N) didn't know what those smiles were showing, but if she had to guess, a weight had been lifted from the men's shoulders after they made those apologies to Alfred, and it must've been confusing for the other nations with them.

It wasn't going to matter here.

"Take a seat everyone," Alfred announced, taking his seat beside (Y/N) at their part of the table. "Again, feel free to help yourselves, but make sure you finish it all before we get to dessert."

The nations were quick to sit down at their spots at the table, then helped themselves to the food. England stared at it for a few moments, before speaking.

"Is this..."

_Yes, Mr. Kirkland, this is food from France. Mr. Bonnefoy had been kind to show me the recipes for these dishes tonight._

England looked at France, who shrugged, but then went back to helping himself to the food.

(Y/N) couldn't help but feel relieved, despite the confusion in the air.

For many minutes, dinner was silent, and (Y/N) took that time to eat her meal, trying to eat slowly when it came to the pieces of meat and the omelet. She always loved medium rare steaks, as they would be much, much juicier than a medium-well steak, even though she never liked how this meat had come from an animal. Meanwhile, the omelet was the kind of omelet she liked, with the salt, pepper, and herbs mixed in, as the egg masked the texture of the herbs while the salt and pepper (and by extension the herbs) provided the flavor.

If anything, this was probably one of the only kinds of meals from France that she would gladly eat without any hesitation.

Speaking of France...

(Y/N) turned to her husband. _Alfred? We're going to be leaving for France in a few days time, right?_

Alfred turned to her. _Yes,_ he signed back. _Therefore I think it would be a good idea if you pack your things early, and make sure you bring a sedative. Even though we're going to be going on my private jet, I don't think the air up there will be kind to you. I think it would also be a good idea to bring in some of the paperwork from your job like Aya requested._

(Y/N) grimaced to herself. There was a reason why she and the atmosphere in an airplane never mixed.

_Are we going to be meeting other nations there as well?_

Alfred "said" nothing for a moment, then lightly shrugged at her. _I don't know darling. It's a 50/50 chance when the others are concerned, so I can't say for sure._

(Y/N) nodded. _I see._

"Amerique?" Hearing France, the couple turned to look at him. "Is everyzhing alright?"

"Yes," Alfred answered. "(Y/N) and I were just discussing our plans for heading to your country. (Y/N)'s never done well in airplanes or other countries, as airplanes are suffocating for her and other countries--or different towns and cities in general--are places she has never been to before and doesn't know what to expect. Being prepared helps prevent any anxiety and potential meltdowns for her."

(Y/N) nodded in confirmation.

"Oh, I see," said France, turning back to his meal, to which he chewed slowly and swallowed before smiling in (Y/N)'s direction. "Zhis is very delicious, mademoiselle," he said, voice pleased. "You really are a fast learner."

(Y/N) smiled back at him lightly. _I'm glad you think so,_ she "said". _After all, you did show me those recipes._

"Oui, but sometimes it can be a little difficult, some dishes. Do you remember macaroons?"

 _How can I not?_ asked (Y/N). _They are a popular dessert, especially here in America. My employees and I do make them from time to time, and they are really fun to eat._

"And popular zhey are, zhough zhey require perfect amounts of ingredients and timing for them to come out perfectly. Zhe same applies for other dishes."

(Y/N) glared at him. _Are you insulting me, Mr. Bonnefoy?_

"Non, non, of course not!" said France, chuckling slightly but in good nature. "I was just saying zhat you have an incredible skill, and I can see now why you are very popular in zhis town, and are zhe boss of zhat amazing store."

(Y/N) could feel her cheeks heat up in embarrassment and pride, and she smiled. _Thank you again, Mr. Bonnefoy. I appreciate hearing those words from you._

"Of course, mademoiselle," said France. "Chefs are amazing people, just like anyone else is in zheir respective professions."

Faintly, (Y/N) could feel her husband's eyes moving between her and France, and, like the feeling in this room, it felt suspicious, something which she shared, believe it or not. Of course, she would understand that France would feel a little (if not really) elated to have some weight of his sins lifted off his shoulders, but it really felt like he was too friendly.

Of course, (Y/N) was probably looking too much into this, something she was known to do sometimes when confused.

After that, they finished the rest of their meals in silence, moving onto dessert, and (Y/N) watched as some of the nations had the vanilla bean ice cream or whipped cream with their tarts, while others had theirs plain. Eventually, even they finished all the tarts, the ice cream, and the whipped cream surprisingly, but neither (Y/N) or Alfred complained. That meant that the food was eaten at its finest, and the flavor and texture wouldn't change when they put any leftovers in the freezer and/or refrigerator.

Now, they have a trip to prepare for, and (Y/N) could only hope for the best and not regret this.

Especially when they finally get on the plane and arrive to France.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To see the food used in more detail, go to these links:
> 
> Classic French Omelet: https://www.rachaelraymag.com/recipe/classic-french-omelet
> 
> Petite Filets with Spicy Pink Creme Fraiche and Shoestring Mushrooms: https://www.rachaelraymag.com/recipe/petite-filets-with-spicy-pink-crme-frache-shoestring-mushrooms
> 
> Gordon Ramsay's Individual Chocolate Tarts: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mUyQLBCaobE&spfreload=10


	40. Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> College classes are going to be starting for me after this weekend, so please be aware that the current stories I’m working on may be postponed for the time being due to the fact that all of these classes involve a lot (and I mean A LOT) of reading and writing. So, as a result, I’ve been trying to get as many chapters into these stories as I can, and since I had one more week until classes start (since I’m taking off-campus courses), I’m using that time to do so.
> 
> So, without further ado, I hope you enjoy this latest chapter!

The sound of her phone dinging startled (Y/N) from her fantasy world while she was in the midst of making some more candles. Looking at the phone, she was stunned to see a picture of Aya on the screen, showing (Y/N) that she just got a text message from her. Picking up the phone, (Y/N) swept her finger across the screen to view the message.

_Hey (Y/N), how are you doing dear? I hope you’re feeling better._

_Thomas and I were just wondering if you and Alfred wanted to come have dinner with us tonight. The kids have been asking to see you before you leave on your trip, and it’s been awhile since you two visited us for dinner. If you can’t make it, that’s fine. However, you take care of yourself, you hear?_

(Y/N) smiled at the text. Typical of Aya to mother her, but she was not going to complain one bit. It always felt nice to be cared for like that, even if that person wasn’t her birth mother.

Then (Y/N) read the text again, and thought to herself. Having dinner with Aya and her family? Wow, now that she thought about it, it really has been a long time since she and Alfred had visited them for such an occasion. It wasn’t like they anything else planned for today, and it’s only been two days since her and Alfred’s conversation with England and France, and they weren’t going to be heading out until four more days.

Though, would Alfred want to go? She’ll need to ask him first.

(Y/N) quickly texted back.

_Hey Aya, I’m doing a lot better now, thank you for asking. I would love to come visit you and your family for dinner, but I will have to ask Alfred first. Though, in case he says yes, are you thinking of cooking or do you want Alfred and I to cook? I’m okay with whatever you decide, but just in case. Thanks again, and I’ll let you know what Alfred says!_

She then pressed the send button, before setting down her phone and walking out of the room. Surprisingly (or not, she couldn’t decide), the house was quiet, and (Y/N) couldn’t help but wonder what the other nations were up to. However, shaking her head, she approached Alfred’s office, to which she knocked on the door.

Her husband’s voice came through. “Who is it?”

(Y/N) traced on the door.

“It’s unlocked darling. Come on in.”

(Y/N) opened the door and walked inside, closing it behind her before she turned to face Alfred, who had been in the middle of working on some paperwork. She nearly winced at the sight of all that paper, and wondered what the hell her husband was working on that required so much killing of trees.

Regardless, she walked up towards the desk.

“What’s wrong darling?” Alfred asked, voice full of concern. “Is everything alright?”

“Uh?” Realizing how she sounded, (Y/N) smiled sheepishly and signed. _Oh no, everything’s alright. I just wanted to ask you something real quick._

Alfred blinked. “What is it?” he asked.

_I got a text from Aya. She was wondering if we wanted to have dinner with her and her family tonight. She said it’s okay if we decline, though, while I don’t have anything going on today, I just wanted to ask you to see if you wanted to go to. Well, you appear busy, so…_

Alfred looked between her and the paperwork before speaking. “Well, I am busy at the moment, but I should be free later tonight. Did Aya say what time she wanted us to come?”

_No, she didn’t say what time yet. I haven’t gotten that text message from her, and I wanted to get your answer before I told her anything. But…_ (Y/N) hesitated. _Are you sure that you’re okay with that? I mean, you have all this paperwork to work on--_

“(Y/N).” Hearing her husband say her name like that immediately “shut” (Y/N) up. “I have dealt with paperwork much, much worse than this, and I have my tricks when it comes to getting all this done before a certain time. I can do it, so you shouldn’t worry. Besides, it’s been a long time since you and I visited Aya’s house for anything, so I think it’ll be good to visit her and her family before we have to leave.”

(Y/N) blinked, surprised, before she smiled. _I see. Then I’ll let her know._

“Of course.” As (Y/N) turned to leave, Alfred spoke again. “Are you going to spoil the kids when we get there?” The teasing note in his voice made (Y/N) roll her eyes.

_Of course,_ she “said”, _just not the way you’re expecting._

Alfred laughed. “Of course you are. Why did I even ask?”

(Y/N) glared at him playfully. _You’re horrible._

“But you love me for it.”

God damn it Alfred.

(Y/N) turned away and walked out the door, trying to ignore her husband’s laughter all the while. Even when she closed the door, she could still hear his laughter, and she could feel a blush come onto her face.

_Yes,_ she thought. _I really do love you for it._

She smiled all the way back to her workshop and went back to texting Aya, trying not to show how relieved she was that she was now back on schedule.

~~~

The hours passed by quickly, and (Y/N) could feel her excitement growing with every one that passed.

After learning that they were both free later, Aya had proposed that (Y/N) and Alfred head over at about six, and even proposed that they cook together. (Y/N) had agreed right away, knowing that Aya’s two little rascals would want to have something made by one of their favorite people.

Those two little goofballs…

Either way, after dressing up in casual clothes for the event (this was a friend’s house they were going to for Pete’s sake), (Y/N) made sure to grab the necessary ingredients, place them in her bag, and meet with Alfred at the front door. Her husband was dressed in a simple dark sweatshirt, jeans, and boots, and he smiled at her, holding out his hand.

Smiling back, (Y/N) took it, and just as they were about to leave, they heard someone’s voice.

“America, where are you two going?”

Oh boy…

The couple turned around, seeing that England was standing in the entrance of the hallway, looking at them. He didn’t sound accusing like he normally would, so (Y/N) considered that a good thing.

Alfred looked at him. “(Y/N) and I are heading out to a friend’s house for dinner. Your dinner has already been made for you, so make sure you eat it all and place the dirty dishes in the sink before we get home. Also, and no offense, but please make sure that no one makes a mess of this house when we get back.”

England nodded. “O-Of course. Have fun, then.” He then disappeared down the hallway without another word.

(Y/N) and Alfred looked at each other for a moment, then shrugged and walked out the door, got into their car, and proceeded to drive to Aya’s house.

The drive was quiet, but the couple didn’t mind. (Y/N) silently watched as the world outside passed them by while Alfred drove, and the sky was painted with colors as a result of the sunset, ranging from dark yellow, to orange, pink, blue, and even to some spots of purple. It was always so pretty to see what kinds of art the sky makes depending on the time of day.

Eventually, they arrived at Aya's neighborhood, which was a pretty modest neighborhood with simple yet visually pleasing houses, wide streets, and cars that were parked either in the driveway or on the street here and there. Even though it had been a long time since she had been to this neighborhood, and despite the fact that it was a part of her hometown, it felt so foreign to (Y/N), a feeling she always gets when she is in a place she’s not used to.

Then, Alfred pulled the car into the driveway of Aya’s house. It was a two story building that appeared quite small on the outside, with the walls being dark red in color, the window panes pure white, a two person garage door ahead of them, steps that led to the front door, a small lawn in front of the house, a simple dark mailbox, and a flower bed at the corner of the building that contained flowers that (Y/N) either recognized (like the obvious roses) or didn’t.

As Alfred turned off the car, (Y/N) noticed that lights were coming through the windows and the door, meaning that Aya and her family were indeed home.

Though, why would she think otherwise?

Getting out of the car, (Y/N) walked to the back and grabbed the bag full of ingredients, then found Alfred waiting for her by the passenger side, having since moved there while she was busy with the bag.

He held out his hand to her. “Shall we?” he asked.

(Y/N) beamed, taking her husband’s hand. _Of course._

Alfred smiled back at her, then led her up the stairs towards the front door, where he then pressed the doorbell button located nearby. (Y/N) then heard the sound of a bell ringing inside the house, and before she knew it, a pair of footsteps rushing towards the door was heard.

She counted down; Three...two...one…

The door opened, revealing two little children with blonde hair, though the boy had brown eyes like his mother, while the girl had her hair in pigtails and her eyes were a bright green color. They beamed up at (Y/N) and Alfred.

“Miss (Y/N)!” they cheered, bouncing up and down. “Mr. Alfred!”

They then pounced onto the couple, almost taking (Y/N) to the ground had her husband not been holding her up. She giggled as she wrapped her arms around the children, letting them hug her as long as they wanted while ignoring the discomfort of being touched.

_Amy, Connor!_ (Y/N) greeted once the children let her go. _How have you been? Have you been eating your fruits and vegetables? Don’t you lie to me, or none of you will be getting any dessert tonight._

Aya’s children, Amy and Connor, had their eyes wide when (Y/N) told them this. “W-We have!” said Amy, voice fearful. “Honest!”

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow. _Really?_

“Yes, really!” Both children sounded annoyed and embarrassed when they said that, and (Y/N) could only chuckle at them.

Then they heard another voice.

“Amy! Connor! What did I tell you about answering the door without me?” Aya came down the stairs in the house, her voice scolding as she looked at her children. “What if that was a stranger?”

Amy and Connor immediately turned around upon hearing their mother’s voice, and soon their own voices were apologetic when they spoke next. “Sorry Mama,” they said.

Aya shook her head before looking at (Y/N) and Alfred, a smile appearing on her face. “I’m glad you could make it (Y/N), Alfred. The children have been asking for you for awhile ever since learning that you were going to be coming over.”

(Y/N) smiled back. _Well, who can blame them? Not to sound like I’m bragging, but I think no kid can resist any well-made cooking._

Aya giggled. “That’s true. Well, don’t just stand there, hurry on in. It’s getting dark.”

Alfred and (Y/N) nodded, then followed Aya, Amy, and Connor into the house.

Immediately, the unfamiliarity of the house hit (Y/N) first. Granted, it was far from a new house, seeing as Aya, her husband Thomas, and their children have been living here for about six to seven years, but the unfamiliar scents, sights, and feels of the place made it feel new to (Y/N).

She tried to ignore it as best she could, instead gripping Alfred’s arm a little tighter. Alfred gently ran a hand over her back for a few seconds, the action reassuring.

Still, she had to admit that Aya’s home was, for lack of a better word, _homey_.

To explain, it gave off a comforting appeal thanks to the warm colors of the walls, the floors, and even the ceiling. Where the furniture was placed, the location of the kitchen and basement, and the hallway that led to the other rooms also felt like...well, a home, specifically a home that could make anyone feel like they were in their own homes.

And speaking of the furniture…

“Tom!” Alfred greeted, voice pleasant and happy. “How have you been, man? It’s been a long time!”

Thomas, Aya’s husband, stood up from the sofa near them, a smile on his own face as he approached them. He was a tall man with light brown hair and green eyes with a couple beauty marks on his face here and there, but he wasn’t what one would associate with a so-called “manly man” due to his appearance and personality. For one, he was a man with an above average body type, he enjoyed helping Aya around the house and with the kids even though he is a little lazy at times, and he wasn’t the kind of man who enjoyed lifting weights or watching sports.

(Y/N) still remembered when Aya told her that Tom (Thomas’ nickname) loves watching cartoons with Amy and Connor (his most favorite being _Steven Universe_ ), she couldn’t help but squeal for Aya, because, come on, that was probably one of the most adorable things she had ever heard.

Tom smiled at them. “Alfred, (Y/N)! It’s good to see you again too! I’ve been great, what about you two?” He said this while giving Alfred a friendly pat on the shoulder and nodding to (Y/N), knowing that she didn’t like physical contact.

Alfred smiled, a smile that felt truly genuine. “We’ve been alright. I’m sure Aya told you about the craziness that’s been going on at our house.”

“Of course.” Tom said with a nod. “I don’t know how you do it, man, because I know I can never deal with disrespectful people every day.”

“They’ve been alright now,” Alfred said, waving a dismissive hand. “Well, at least several of them are for once. I just don’t know how long that will last.”

Despite her feelings, (Y/N) smacked her husband in the arm (out of sight of the kids of course), and Alfred flinched.

_Alfred,_ she warned. _We did not come here to bring negative feelings to people. We came here to have a wonderful dinner with our friends, remember?_

Alfred chuckled nervously. “Of course, sorry darling.”

Aya and Tom chuckled, then (Y/N) felt a pull on her shirt, so she looked down and saw Amy looking up at her, her small hands grasping onto the fabric of her shirt.

“Miss (Y/N),” she began excitedly, “are you going to be showing Connor and I how to cook today?”

She sounded so excited, and (Y/N) couldn’t help but be affected by it. _Why, of course!_ she “said”. _I know how much you and your brother love cooking!_

Amy beamed, proceeding to bounce up and down. “Yay!” she squealed, a little painful to (Y/N)’s ears despite her earplugs, but she could bear it.

Connor also proceeded to jump up and down in excitement, grinning big and shouting out joyously.

Aya clapped her hands together, silencing her children. “Now settle down, you two. We will get to that in a minute.”

(Y/N) smiled. _Tell me again, Aya, have these two been eating their fruits and vegetables? I don’t think I can believe them with they told me a few minutes ago._

Both Amy and Connor jumped, looking between (Y/N) and their mother.

Aya smiled. “Don’t worry, they have. Tom and I have been making sure of it, even though these two do love to voice their hate for it.”

“Mom!” cried the children in embarrassment.

All four adults chuckled at the children’s antics, then Alfred decided to put the kids out of their misery. “Well, it is about time for dinner, so why don’t we get started on cooking?” he asked.

Did (Y/N) guess incorrectly, or did Amy and Connor actually slump in relief? Either way, Aya and Tom smiled. “Sure thing,” said Aya. “(Y/N), dear, did you bring the ingredients for the food you wanted to make?”

_Of course,_ (Y/N) replied, holding up her bag. _And since the kids have been good, I even made sure to bring ingredients in order to make them some of their favorites._

“Yay!” beamed the kids.

“Perfect,” said Aya. “Well, go wash your hands you two, for you are going to be helping us, and we can’t have any yuckies going into the food we’re about to eat, you hear?”

“Yes Mom!” At that, the children immediately went to the bathroom to wash their hands.

(Y/N) and Alfred watched them go with a chuckle, then turned to Aya and Tom. “Well, we should follow their example and set the table,” said Alfred. “Wouldn’t want to do what the kids were warned not to do, huh?”

(Y/N) scoffed in amusement while Aya and Tom chuckled again. “Yes, we should,” said Aya. “So, let’s get started then.”

~~~

It was always fun whenever they came over and taught the kids how to cook.

(Y/N) still remembers the first time she helped Amy and Connor cook while she was about to teach them the basics one time.

_“When I grow up, I wanna be just like Miss (Y/N)!”_ Amy had said.

_“Me too!”_ Connor had added, sounding offended that Amy said it before him.

That memory never fails to make (Y/N) chuckle, or to feel light.

Someone wanting to be like her when they grow up? She had never heard those words from anyone before until she had met Aya’s children. It had been a wonderful feeling.

She had even cried in happiness after she got home.

Now, as she was helping Amy and Connor cook, showing them the more advanced tricks since they had watched their parents long enough to copy them, (Y/N) made sure to keep an eye on them while they were making the appetizers and she and the others were making the main course and dessert.

Minutes later, Aya turned to (Y/N).

“Have you ever thought of having children yourself, (Y/N)?” she asked.

(Y/N) shook her head. _Not at all,_ she answered. _Why do you ask?_

“You’ve always been good with children,” said Aya, smiling at her. “Of course, I know you said that you are not exactly fond of them, and I can’t blame you considering how many children in this generation are behaving, but you’ve always been good with Amy and Connor. In fact, I would like to think that they think of you as their mother away from home.”

(Y/N) felt her cheeks grow hot. _Come on Aya,_ she began, _you are and always will be their mother._

“I know that, I was just making a comparison,” said Aya. “Seeing that, I’ve always thought you would be a good mother for any child.”

(Y/N) frowned, despite herself. _Aya,_ she began slowly, _you know how I am around children, especially when they are babies. I’m also not around Amy and Connor all the time like you are, so I’m not the one raising them, you are. I’m not patient, sympathetic, or loving to children, so I could never raise a child whether it is biologically mine or is adopted. After all, even though they have gotten better, my parents did not set me a good example of how to raise children._

“(Y/N)...”

_Can we talk about something else, please?_ (Y/N) asked. _I don’t want to spend the dinner being upset with the past, please._

Aya stared at her for a few more minutes before nodding. “I’m sorry (Y/N),” she said. “I shouldn’t have brought that up.”

_It’s fine,_ said (Y/N). _I know you mean well, it’s just…_

Aya nodded, saying nothing else as they continued to cook.

Eventually, everything was done, so everyone got the food to the table before sitting down. Aya immediately grabbed the cups after setting down a plate full of food and filled them up with different things depending on the person. (Y/N) just had water, while Alfred had some beer, Tom had some sprite, Aya some diet coke, and Amy and Connor some juice. After setting the cups down in front of everyone, Aya joined them at the table, smiling.

“Well, let’s dig in!” she said. “This food isn’t going to eat itself, so let’s eat while it’s still warm!”

“Okay!” said everyone, though (Y/N) just signed it. Immediately everyone helped themselves, and (Y/N) looked over the food they made.

For sides, (Y/N), Amy, and Connor made cheese biscuits that were sprinkled with some cayenne pepper, salt, and garlic, contained sharp cheddar cheese, and shredded fresh parsley leaves scattered throughout. They had made about a dozen, so there was enough for seconds and maybe thirds.

The main course was smoked tenderloin that was medium rare, and (Y/N) couldn’t help but be thankful that everyone here loved medium rare steaks, even though she didn’t mind if they did not. Still, she was not going to be wasting any food here. They also made salads that had the option of having cheese, pepper, ranch, or blue cheese added to them, as well as a couple other sides, like small bowls of clam chowder (one of Alfred’s favorites), some mashed potatoes, and mozzarella cheese sticks with dipping sauce.

For the next few minutes, everyone ate happily and talked among themselves in lively tones, with Amy, Connor, and Tom telling (Y/N) and Alfred about the latest episode of _Steven Universe_ , though Tom had to keep his children from spoiling the show itself for every five seconds, saying that in case (Y/N) and Alfred wanted to watch it themselves, they shouldn’t ruin the plot and characters.

Of course, and predictably, Amy and Connor struggled with that.

Still, (Y/N) didn’t mind one bit. She had never watched the show itself, but she had heard it was an amazing show with amazing complex characters, amazing relationships between said characters, and beautiful designs and settings. Also, with how passionately Tom, Amy, and Connor talked about the show, it made (Y/N) want to watch it for herself.

Maybe she could do that while they are heading over to France. Alfred did say that he had a TV on the plane, and one that had Hulu thanks to the plane somehow containing wireless internet. She didn’t know how that worked, but she certainly wasn’t complaining. It would certainly help her ignore being in a plane and in the air all at once.

“So, you and Alfred are heading to France, right?” Tom asked after taking a bite of steak. “What are you guys planning to do over there?”

(Y/N) jumped a little, not expecting the question, but Alfred was not as surprised. “Well, it’s more of a business trip for me,” he said. “Though you could also say that it’s like a vacation for (Y/N).”

Tom nodded, taking a sip of his sprite. “Can’t blame you. You deserve it after having to deal with a Karen.”

Amy and Connor looked at their father, clearly confused. “A Karen?” asked Connor.

“She had to deal with a woman named Karen?” asked Amy.

Aya looked at her husband before looking to her children. “It’s a saying for a rude and obnoxious female customer, honey bears,” she said.

“Oh,” said both children before looking at (Y/N). They opened their mouths to say something, but then closed them, likely because they didn’t know what to say.

(Y/N) could only be grateful, because regardless of the question, she wasn’t sure if she could answer it.

“Still, what are you hoping to do in France, (Y/N)?” asked Aya. “I know you said you would try to work on some paperwork while you’re gone, but do you and Alfred have any plans?”

(Y/N) shook her head. _Not really,_ she admitted. _To be honest, Alfred and I didn’t really think that far ahead. Though, I do what to visit their restaurants, bakeries, and cosmetic shops to see what they’ve got. Other than that, I might be doing the usual while we’re over there._

Aya smiled, taking a bite of her steak and later of the cheese sticks. “Well, that sounds like a lot of fun. I’ve always wanted to go to France, but I’ve never really liked the idea of getting on a plane or going on a cruise ship.”

(Y/N) nodded. She could understand that much, especially in concern to the planes.

Even the thought made her shiver. Oh god, public planes, the ones that were always crowded, smelled too strongly of all kinds of scents that ranged from perfume to odor, and even to screaming children who would cry like the entire world was coming to an end. God, all of those combined always made for a hellish experience, so (Y/N) could only be grateful that they were taking a private jet.

That was one of the perks of having the literal country personification as your spouse, even though (Y/N) never really thought too much into it.

As for a cruise...eh. (Y/N) didn’t really care for them, though she had no plans of ever going on one in her lifetime, for not only do those trips cost a shitload of money, but there was also the likelihood that things could go horribly wrong, and they have so many times, even in the 21st century!

Even now just thinking of that sent a chill down (Y/N)’s spine.

“Will you be going with your house-guests?” Aya then asked.

(Y/N) was snapped from her thoughts by this, and once again Alfred was quick to answer.

“Yes,” he said. “Though they will going on their own planes compared to us.”

“Oh, I see.”

(Y/N) moved to take another bite of her steak, but then realized that she didn’t have anymore to bite. She then tried to take a bite of her biscuit, but it was gone too. Looking down in surprise, she saw that her plate was empty of any food, her cup void of any water and so was everyone else’s and the bowls and large plates that held the rest of the food.

“Wait, huh?”

“Did we eat too fast?”

“Aww!”

“I couldn’t stop!”

(Y/N) couldn’t help but giggle at everyone. She didn’t know if it was because of their conversation or if the food was too good, but she was not going to complain one bit.

She smiled at Amy and Connor. _Looks like the biscuits, salads, and mozzarella sticks were so good that we didn’t realize that we would eat them all without noticing, huh?_

Both kids grinned, clearly so proud of themselves.

Aya clapped her hands together. “Well, is everyone ready for dessert?”

Amy and Connor cheered, while the other adults just nodded their heads, smiling big. Smiling herself, Aya walked back into the kitchen, then came out a minute later with the dessert in tow.

Amy and Connor stared at the delicacy with wide eyes as it was placed in front of them, and (Y/N) thought she saw some drool pouring from their mouths. She had to resist the urge to giggle as she took in the dessert she and Alfred made.

It was a chocolate cake in a rectangular pan, and it was covered with fluffy and creamy chocolate buttercream frosting that made it look light brown in color and confetti sprinkles. The couple made sure not to add too much frosting or sugar to the cake, as that would likely cause the kids to be hyper for a longer time than needed.

Aya used a knife to cut the cake into little squares before using a steel pie server spatula to lift the pieces onto cleaner plates and passed them around.

“Well, let’s dig in everyone, and yes, everyone is allowed to have seconds and thirds if there is enough,” she said while placing her own cake slice in front of her.

Everyone grinned, though Amy and Connor once more cheered in delight.

(Y/N) smiled when she took a bite of her own cake, loving the softness of the delicacy, the smoothness of the frosting, and how chewy the sprinkles were. It wasn’t too chocolaty in any way, and with the sprinkles evening it out, it was just right.

While eating, (Y/N) quickly made a note to bring some gifts back for Aya, Tom, and the children, especially in thanks for Aya’s hard work. Though, she was going to have to look hard if she wanted to bring things back that the family may love.

Still, she was sure that wasn’t going to be a problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I am also obsessed with _Steven Universe _. Fight me. Seriously though, I love how complex the characters are, how beautiful the setting is, and even how it explores LGBTQ themes and challenges gender roles! God I would love to see people everywhere not being afraid to wear either suits, dresses, or anything masculine and feminine, or even swapping between them! I’ve always thought women in suits and men wearing dresses and skirts is amazing. Though, I’m mostly obsessed with the show’s Great Diamond Authority.__
> 
> __Anyway, the cheese biscuits are based off of Red Lobster’s. God I love those, and even now I’m drooling just thinking about them! I also strongly believe that clam chowder would be one of America’s favorite foods, because, come on, I’m sure he would considering that it’s a popular dish in the New England area._ _
> 
> __I also want to point out that while some autistic people are known to be uncomfortable around children (and I am one of those people because good god they take so much work and patience), that doesn’t necessarily mean that they all are incapable of loving and raising them. Like everyone who doesn’t have a developmental disability or other things, every autistic person is different, and whether they do want to have children or not is up to them._ _


End file.
